


Another Night, Another Story

by SawyerXT



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Character Death, Deadlights, Dustin has an older sister, F/M, Gay Will Byers, M/M, Nancy Byers!, New OC, Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler Are Cousins, The Upside Down, maybe smut?, new monsters called "demidevils", pennywise - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SawyerXT/pseuds/SawyerXT
Summary: Everyone wants a dream vacation, so the Losers decide camping in Hawkins is perfect.Bill Denbrough was put for adoption a year ago. Now, he lives in the outskirts of Derry with his foster mom Lillian Henderson... Dustin Henderson's older sister. The Losers are supposed to take a nice trip to Hawkins, Indiana to go camping but things go haywire when another gate to the Upside Down is opened...And another to the deadlights.The two gates merge into one huge rip that the Hawkins crew and the Losers have to fix, without getting themselves killed.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Dustin Henderson/Suzie, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair
Comments: 81
Kudos: 41





	1. Welcome To Derry

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, small back story here, I hope it's not too confusing. 
> 
> A year back Bill Denbrough's parents felt that having Bill around was a constant reminder of Georgie, Bill's dad lost his job at Derry Public Works and Bill's mom didn't have a job, so they put Bill up for adoption. A single mother who lived in Derry took Bill in to be her foster child. This woman is Dustin Henderson's older sister, Lillian Henderson(OC). 
> 
> To fully build this story, I needed to have a stronger connection between the Losers and the Hawkins crew, but that connection couldn't be too obvious, that's why I chose to do this. Also, Mike Wheeler and Richie Tozier are cousins (for obvious reasons). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and PLEASE leave comments, they keep me going. If you want, you can also check out my Reddie and Stenbrough One-Shots and leave requests! 
> 
> And trust me when I say that this will get good. It just starts out a little slow.
> 
> PS: Contains foul language and derogatory terms I don't approve of, but in order to form this story in a realistic way, I need to use these words. I love everyone and don't discriminate.
> 
> BLACK LIVES MATTER!

Derry, Maine, July 3, 2020

If I told you that this story begins with a 'Once upon a time,' then you may stop reading. Mostly because you'd think that this is a children's fairy tale, those are lame, and your too old or whatever. This is not a fairy tale, but it does begin with a 'Once upon a time,' and… well… I'm not gonna tell you how it ends, but I promise, it's not as boring as the beginning.

It starts with seven kids all getting ready to go camping. Bill Denbrough's foster mom found them a place to go camping in Indiana, states away from where they lived in Derry, Maine. Bill had family in Indiana, in Hawkins to be exact, and so did Richie Tozier. Bill's adoptive grandma, Shaylene lives there, and his technical uncle Dustin –who Bill just calls Dustin because it sounds weird to call a sixteen-year-old 'uncle'— lived there. Dustin was best friends with one of Richie's cousin, Mike Wheeler, who happened to have a sister named Nancy. If this weren't a story, I'd draw you a chart, but it is. We'll just say that Richie's cousin/doppelganger is best friends with Bill's uncle and they both live in the same state.

"Once upon a time…" Richie Tozier started to say, but he was cut off by his friend, Mike Hanlon.

"Dude, everyone knows you aren't supposed to start a scary story with 'Once upon a time'. It sounds like trash."

"Well, Star Wars starts that way," Richie said matter-of-factly as he opened the closet to grab his rain slicker.

"Yeah, that's why Star Wars is trash." Mike looked his friend over and Richie gaped at him. Then he whipped something out of the closet and proceeded to hit Mike with it. Mike let out a yell and put his arms up to protect his face. It was a green plastic lightsaber. He was getting beat with a lightsaber that Richie got for Christmas years ago and now probably only uses as a sex toy. Mike had to laugh at this thought and began to run from the angry boy screaming:

"Don't whip dis here black boy!"

Mike lived on a farm with his grandparents and uncle. Most people thought that he was the town's stereotypical black farm boy, but the Losers knew this wasn't true. Mike would walk through greywater for his friends. He would fight off an evil clown from a different dimension for them. He would sell his soul to Butch Bowers if he had to, just to help his fellow Losers. Mike was often underestimated, but when you made him mad, he wouldn't take it. His grandfather Leroy Hanlon said he got that tenacity from his father. Leroy would tell Mike stories as a kid. He'd say:

"Mikey-boy, you got one hot head just like your daddy." And he'd mess with his hair a little, "But, boy, you wouldn't hurt a goddamn horsefly if the time came to it."

"I'd hurt a fly, gran'pa." Mike would reply, "But only if it hurt my family first."

Leroy would just smile and light a cigarette, just like he always did when he was ready to tell a good long story, and Mike would settle in. He was ready for his grandpa's words. The words that would sometimes teach him a lesson, and sometimes would be ten times better than any book.

"Did you know, when I first bought this farm for me, you're gran'ma, and your daddy, Butch Bowers was already on the farm next to us. He was there but that nasty ass son wasn't there, Harold or whatever h-"

"Henry, gramp, his name is Henry." Mike would say, cringing at the memories of the smaller meaner version of Butch.

"I don't give a rats ass what his name is, just listen up boy." Leroy would snap. Mike closed his mouth and decided to keep it that way. He wanted to hear the story.

"Butch would give us so much hell that we had to call the police sometimes. He'd kill the farm cats, steal our sheep, and destroy property. There was one time where he painted a dang swastika on the side of the chicken coop. Now, your daddy went to check it out an' there was barely anything left of those damn chickens but feathers and guts. Bowers mutilated those things real good. We called the local police and Officer Conan showed up.

"Mikey, out of our town, there weren't and still aren't many good police. Think about all of the black people a year killed by police brutality. And in Derry, things like that are even worse, because in a small town everyone hates each other, but thank the Lord that back then we had one good cop. His name was Gregory Conan. Now, he showed up and we brought him out to the coop, and he took one look and promised that he'd find the person who did it. I knew that he would too. He was that nice of a man.

"He left and twenty minutes later he come right back! I was confused as hell and I says 'What are you doing back here, Officer?' He said that the Chief don't wanna do nothing for no nigger. He shook his head as he said that he was sorry, but then he dropped his voice and whispered to me: 'But I would check on Butch if I were you.' and that bastard left. I had been suspecting Bowers, but I didn't want to say shit. Conan was a good man, but he was still white. If I had accused a white man of killin' my chickens in front of another white man... well I was worried I'd get a whuppin'."

"I told your daddy -he was sixteen at the time- to go and check up on Bowers. Your daddy was a strong man, but he was just like Jackie Robison. He would always turn the other cheek. I told him though, I said: 'Will, you go and teach Bowers a lesson. Fight back and don't let him do nothin' to you." and your dad agreed.

"He came back thirty minutes later with a smirk on his face and he told me that he had scared the living hell out of Bowers. I says 'What the did you do, Willy? You tryin' to get us arrested?"

"He says "No, pa. I just told him off. Told him if he called me a nigger one more time, I was gonna blow his brains out. Put my gun to his head and everything.'"

Mike was listening intently as his gran'pa continued, and Mike realized that he wanted to be just like his dad. He wanted to have a family that loved him. He wanted to threaten anyone who called him a nigger. He wanted to be that strong

Mike was completely unaware that he had all that. He also had no idea that soon that is exactly what he was going to prove. He was going to have to be as strong as his father. He was going to have to blow someone's brains out.

'Black Lives Matter' is what everyone cheers nowadays. He was gonna have to channel that energy.

'I'm not a nigger, I'm just dark.' Mike thought as he ran in circles from Richie, and he laughed a little louder.  
________________________________________  
Bill Denbrough walked a large circle around the boys playfighting in the center of the room and went to the kitchen, grabbed the hand of his boyfriend, and sat next to him. Stanley Uris was sitting in the kitchen and staring at one spot on the counter almost in a trance-like state. As soon as he felt Bill's gentle hand around his, he looked up and smiled.

"R-R-Richie is b-b-beating up…" Bill paused and tried to spit the words out. "Mike. In the l-luh-living r-room."

"Why?" Stan tightened his grip in a soft squeeze and looked at Bill. Bill stared into Stan's eyes for a minute, completely forgetting what he was saying, and then he snapped back to reality.

""I h-have n-n-n-no ide-ide-idea."

Stan pulled Bill off the barstool and then stood up himself. Stan was still trying to wake up, and he didn't like coffee, so it took him longer to reach full energy. He was always a quiet kid and never wild, but there was still a slight liveliness about him. An aura almost. Still holding hands, they walked to Stan's room.

"Help me check to see if I have everything." Stan let go of Bill's hand and bent down next to his suitcase, then he unzipped it. It was packed with classic things like shirts, shorts, bug spray, sunglasses, and sunscreen, but then there were other things that only Stanley Uris would pack. Like his Zeiss Ikon binoculars, and his bird book.

Stan pulled a list out of his back pocket and opened it. He was always so neat. For heaven's sake, even the cuts on his wrists were in perfectly straight lines. He was the type of person who had everything in his closet color-coordinated, his shoes in neat rows on a shoe rack, his books all pushed up toward the front of the shelf (but the spines and inch away, so they for sure wouldn't fall) and they were in alphabetical order by the authors last name, he made his bed every morning at 6:05, just after he woke up and used the bathroom—

Stan wasn't messing around when it came to cleanliness either.

He would never go a day without showering, he washed his bedding every week on Saturday, his room had never even heard of a dust bunny, and he cringed at the sight of mud getting on his light blue high-topped Converse sneakers. Nevertheless, Bill still loved him.

"You m-m-muh-made a list, b-baby?" Bill kneeled next to Stan and peered over his shoulder, eyes scanning the list.

"Why wouldn't I?" Stan looked at Bill incredulously and Bill laughed.

"Yeah, why wouldn't you."

________________________________________

"Bevy?" Ben called out as he walked through Beverly's bedroom door.

Bev had been staying with Lillian and Bill lately. Her father was arrested for assaulting Bev's five-year-old cousin, and her mom said it was perfectly okay to stay at Bill's. Bev thought it was a little suspicious at first because in the past Alfredia Marsh would never even consider letting Beverly stay at a boy's house, but when Bev moved most of her stuff out of her room, she realized what was really going on.

Alfredia worked at a local diner, and she was a waitress. It was a trashy, low paying job, with no benefits to the Marsh family at all. Bev's father, Al, was the one making all the money most days – and Lord knows janitors don't make shit— but now with his arrest… the family was broke. This fact dawned on Beverly for the first time when she saw how empty their apartment really was without her things in it. Her mom had been selling things. Selling them for profit, but also selling them to clear the place out… in case they got evicted. Family heirlooms, furniture, paintings that probably weren't worth more than a dollar… they were disappearing.

The fact that Beverly hadn't noticed this until she was moving out, bothered her. It was proof of what little time she spent with her parents. It bugged Bev. It bugged the shit out of her.

"Hey, Bevy!" Ben cheered upon seeing Bev sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at a postcard. It was no doubt the one Ben had given her, the one with his haiku written on it.

"Hi, Ben." She smiled, her short red hair flaming in the sunlight coming through the window.

Ben moved across the room –careful not to let his fat jiggle—and sat down on the edge of the bed. It squealed in protest and that made Bev cover her mouth to hide a laugh. Ben laughed too, but on the inside, he was morbidly embarrassed, because he knew he needed to lose weight. Maybe not all of it, but some. He secretly believed Beverly liked bigger boys.

"Are you excited to go camping?" Ben asked. Bev nodded vigorously in reply.

"My grandma used to take me camping in Virginia." Beverly smiled and grabbed Ben's chubby hand in her slim one. Ben noticed how beautiful and smooth her hands are. Her nails painted a deep maroon colour, a small freckle on her thumb just below the first knuckle, her skin a milky white. Ben's eyes slowly went up to her face, and she stared back. Ben remembered that she had just said something, and he snapped back to reality.

"Virginia? You lived in Virginia?" Ben blinked at Bev, still trying to figure out what was happening.

"No, but my grandma used to take me there as a kid. It was pretty fun, I guess." Beverly paused, "It was at least a vacation from here."

"Oh, I see."

An awkward silence erupted between the two and after a few seconds Bev stood up and zipped up her suitcase that was laying in front of her closet.

"Well, did you finish packing, Benny?"

"Umm... yeah, I did last week. I helped Stan pack too. He's so neat! It's crazy!"

"I know!" Bev hoisted her luggage to an upright position and wheeled it over to the door. "Let's go bring our stuff to the shuttle."

________________________________________

"HEY! EDDIE!" Lillian yelled. Eddie was fooling around with the water hose and was getting dangerously close to spraying Richie. As Lillian "Lian" Henerson called out his name he dropped the hose like he had just gotten caught robbing a bank and it sprayed the front of the house completely out of control. Richie scrambled to turn off the water, getting soaked in the process.

"Rich, go change, and Eddie, quit fooling around. Where's your fanny pack?" Lian called out as she put the last of the luggage in the trunk of the airport shuttle. Eddie nodded and ran off, hand in hand with Richie.

Lillian loved these kids, but really?

"L-L-Lian?" Bill asked tugging on the hem of her black turtleneck.

"What?" She turned to the kid next to her and she realized how nervous he was. He seemed apprehensive to ask the question, but after a minute he carried on anyway.

"Do you th-think your b-b-b-brother will l-luh-like me?" He asked purposefully avoiding her gaze.

Lillian grabbed Bill's chin and tilted his head up so he would look her in the eyes. With just that look, all his fears melted away. She was going to be there for him.

"Sweetie, I think he'll love you." She whispered.

At that exact moment Eddie came running up to the car, interrupting the small talk between the two as he yelled:

"Everyone in! Let's leave Richie behind!"


	2. Welcome To Hawkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a small introduction for the Hawkins crew. It's not very necessary, but since I did one for the Losers, I thought I should do one for the Hawkins gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around and reading! This chapter is an introduction for the Hawkins crew, and how Mike Wheeler's party is getting ready to go camping too. Remember, if you have anything you want me to put in this story, just let me know. Also, these first two chapters are just introductions into the home lives of these characters. The whole story is not going to be this boring.

Hawkins, Indiana, July 3, 2020

"Dusty!?" Sharon Henderson called up the stairs. Dustin dragged his bag closer to the stairs and yelled back. 

"What!?" 

"Your sister and her son are going to be here soon, are you ready?" Sharon slowly climbed the stairs as Dustin left his bag and ran back to his room. He ran over to his large terrarium, reached into it, and pulled out his turtle.

"See you soon, Yertle. Gotta go camping with my sis and nephew." Dustin planted a kiss on its patterned shell and carefully put it back. "Hopefully, Bill isn't too annoying."

He noticed that Yertle seemed to be staring at him. It’s gaze matching Dustin’s to a point where he had to turn away because he was so uncomfortable. His turtle never did that. Half the time Yertle was so stupid that he didn’t even notice when Dustin picked him up, he just kept trying to walk away. Something about this stare made Dustin believe that this turtle… wasn’t actually his.

"Dusty! Hurry up! I'm gonna put your stuff in the car, so hopefully, you have it all." Sharon called from the hallway, causing Dustin to snap back to reality.

"No, mom... your gonna break your damn back!" Dustin hollered down the hall and then decided that he... didn't really care. If she wanted to break her damn back, then he was gonna let her, I mean... he loved his mom... but...

He took one last look at the caged turtle and then picked up his phone to text his girlfriend in Utah, Suzie. She picked up almost instantly, as he knew she would. She was always on the other side.

Dustybun: Got to go camping, Suzie-pooh. My freaking nephew is going to be there, and I've never met him before. Kinda hope he's shy and not annoying like Mike Wheeler’s cousin Richie.

Suzie-Pooh: I'm sure you'll be fine. Just annoy him back!

Dustybun: How?

Suzie-Pooh: Start talking, nerd. It's what we are after all. Use it to your advantage.  
Dustybun: Genius, Suzie

Suzie-Pooh: Thank you. Have fun, Dusty. Text me when you get home.

Suzie-Pooh: A week, right?

Dustybun: Yep

Suzie-Pooh: I'm marking my calendar

Dustybun: Love you, Suzie-Pooh

Suzie-Pooh: Love you more, Dustybun

He plugged in his phone and stood up, stretching as he did so. Then he went to check to see if his mom had committed 'heavy-luggage-down-the-stairs-followed-by-a-fall' yet, but she had made it and was fine, which Dustin was honestly surprised to see. Mostly because his mom couldn't even reach the bread at the top of the fridge without pulling something, but also because he had packed enough books to last him a lifetime.

He had things planned to the last minute. Nothing was going to spoil his vacation. 

If his nephew and his nephew's friends were annoying, then he would either a) annoy them back like Suzie suggested, b) get Eleven to push them out of the way, c) tell them a scary story and hopefully scare the bejeebies out of them, d) embarrass them, and/or e) show them who's boss (aka tell his sister because even Dustin knows that Dustin is a wimp). If it came to it, then he would tell them off, but who knows. Maybe they'll be cool 12 and 13-year-olds’. 

Dustin also had activities planned. He wanted to try bird watching for the first time, he wanted to go canoeing, make some roast toasty marshmallows, tell scary stories by the fire... he wanted to do it all. Anything that was possible to do while camping. Anything.

The curly-haired boy took one last look at his room and closed the door, praying for a good week.  
....................

Eleven was stuffing her face with breakfast, excited to see the great outdoors, excited to meet Mike’s cousin, excited to meet Dustin’s nephew, but most excited to meet Lillian. She may be 23, but according to Dustin, she was still a huge kid at heart.

Max Mayfield was even more eager to meet Lian. She heard Lian knew how to skateboard and was hoping to learn some cool tricks while they camped. Lucas had to remind Max that “We go camping in the woods, and there isn’t blacktop there. How are you gonna go skateboarding in the middle of all that flora and fauna?” Which to Max replied:

“I’ll buy and off-roading skateboard, dumbass.” And she and El burst into laughter at the joke. Lucas smiled, happy that his girlfriend was happy.

“Eleven, come on, I think you’ve had enough Eggos for a day,” Hopper said from the kitchen counter. Eleven looked down realizing that she had eaten most of the Eggos on the large plate in front of her.

“Oh, dang it. We were supposed to save those weren’t we?” El got up and grabbed the plate that once held fifteen Eggos –The stack had dwindled down to four— and brought it to Hopper.

“It’s fine, I’ll make more.” They were planning on taking some camping with them and then toasting them like s’mores with marshmallows and everything. 

“I was hungry,” Eleven said simply. There was a sudden knock at the door and the two looked up from the plate of frozen waffles. “It’s probably Mike!” 

El dashed for the door, almost slipped on the hardwood while doing so, and grabbed the doorknob. It was locked. Shoot. Her fingers fumbled with the latches as fast as she could manage and threw it open.

It wasn’t Mike.

“Hi, El!” Joyce smiled. “Happy to see me?” 

El stared at Joyce Byers for a second, rolled her eyes, then and started to sulk away, disappointed. Knowing what El was waiting for Joyce called after her before she reached her room.

“Mike is here!” Eleven dashed back again, almost causing Joyce to go sprawling on the deck. Hopper yelled something, but the excited brunette was too far away to hear.

“Mike!” She yelled and ran straight into his arms.

“Hey, El!” Mike hugged her and planted a kiss on her forehead. He was dressed in a pair of shorts, a striped shirt, a pair of long socks, and some ragged old tennis shoes.

“Is that what you are wearing camping?” El asked curiously. Mike blinked at her, wondering if she was going to tell him to change like every husband says their wife does to them after marriage.

“What’s wrong with it?” Mike asked still staring. El’s nose wrinkled up.

“Moss-quee-toes.” She said.

“You mean mosquitoes. And I’ll be fine, I’ll wear bug spray.” Mike laughed and gave Eleven a kiss on the lips. Max ran up to them with Lucas and Dustin at her side.

“Guys! I found Lillian’s Instagram!” Max put an arm around Eleven and showed her the screen of her phone. 

On it was a picture of a tall, pale girl. She had a brown pixie cut that stuck up in different directions, pretty pink lips, and her shirt was a deep green, like the forest. She was standing in front of a tall redwood tree, probably in California since there are no trees that big in Maine.

Max scrolled down and there was a picture of a boy. He was posing with Lillian, which lead Dustin to believe that this was Bill. He had dark brown hair that was neatly swept to the side of his forehead, slightly chubby cheeks, delicate features, and a small smile. His shirt was white with green sleeves. He looked kind of cute to Eleven.

The next picture was of seven kids.

One was who they thought was Bill. 

The boy next to him had curly hair that was neatly combed, a perfect jawline, and a blue button-up shirt that was tucked into his khaki shorts.   
That’s Stan, Dustin thought. I heard he’s got that curly hair, like me. 

The boy next to him had dark skin, kinky black hair with a nice fade that looked freshly cut, and an old t-shirt that made him look like he had just rolled around in the dirt.   
This guy is obviously Mike, Lucas thought, since he’s the only black one. At least I have someone to relate to.

One had giant coke bottle glasses that made his eyes look much bigger than they probably were, he was wearing a white tee with a bright Hawaiian shirt with colorful birds on it. His smile was wide, and the glasses hid what his face truly looked like, but he looked exactly like Mike Wheeler.   
That’s Richie, Mike thought, No doubt.

The smallest boy was sitting in Richie’s lap and was in a cast, he had brown hair that was probably as soft as the skin on his face and was wearing a salmon shirt and some red short shorts. Will –who was now standing behind Mike—knew that that was Eddie. Mostly because he had an aspirator clenched in on hand. 

There is was a pretty chunky boy in the middle. He had lots of messy dirty blond hair, chubby cheeks, and was in a thick blue sweatshirt. Eleven has heard about him. That was Ben. Aka Haystack, or something like that.

Max took notice of a girl that looked a bit like her. Red hair, but it was ten times shorter, a smattering of freckles on her face, and soft red lips. Well… Max didn’t have those lips. She began to grow jealous of this girl who she hadn’t even met yet. This was Beverly, obviously.

Those were the Losers. Those are the people that they had to deal with for a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of boring, but it gets ten times better.


	3. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!!!

PLEASE READ ALL THE WAY THROUGH! IMPORTANT!

I'm asking for some people to comment on some of their own ideas on this story. So I have a few questions for you guys! I just want you guys to help me build the story so you guys can really enjoy it. Please respond! I'd love it!

1) Do you guys have any ideas for what you want to see when it comes to fluff or smut for some of the couples? Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly, Mileven? 

2) Any ideas for the plot, including Pennywise, the Deadlights, The Upside Down, and a new monster called Demidevils? (Demidevils are the second version of people from our dimension, except their slightly disfigured, their very pale, and their face opens up into a Demogorgon's jaw.)

3) What can I do to spark your interest in the story?

4) Best friend ideas? Who do you think will be friends with each other? Great pairs? Like, I enjoy seeing Stan and Richie's bickering interactions, but who do you want to see?

5) Anything else? Anything at all, I will read all of these.


	4. Hate, Hate, Hate, and Secret Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dustin sees his sister for the first time in seven years, Max realizes how much she despises Bev, and Mike W. is worried about losing Eleven to his much more sporadic cousin.
> 
> Plus... Pennywise makes his first appearance brief, but dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't commented on the previous update, please do. I'm getting great idea's from you guys so far!!! Comment ANY suggestions, I love to hear them. 😘

The car pulled up to the side of the road just as Hopper walked out of his small cabin. It was a nice Subaru, that fit all of the Losers. They didn’t fit comfortably, but they still fit.  
Lian was nervous. She hadn’t seen her brother in a long time, the kids didn’t know anyone there (besides Richie), she had anxiety about someone getting lost or eaten by a bear, and she constantly felt like something was wrong. Perhaps she had forgotten something, or maybe one of the kids did… who knows.

What had worried Lillian the most was how Eddie kept describing what could go wrong in the woods like these.

“The Barrens aren’t perfectly safe,” He said in the car, “But at least we know them like the back of our hands. With these woods… well… if one of us gets lost, then we’re most likely to die.

“We could get eaten by a bear, get eaten by a monster, we could fall into a river and drown, we could starve, we could get kidnapped, we could get murdered, we could get kidnapped and murdered, we could get stung by a bee and have an allergic reaction, we could get stung by a nest of bees and have an allergic reaction, we could get raped by a mad man, and we—”

“Oh my god! Shut up, Eddie!” Stan yelled. Eddie paused mid-sentence and looked at Stan.

“I’m just letting you know! Okay? So many things could happen! We could get covered in mosquito bites and itch for months, leaving scars, we could—”

“No, shut up.”

“Guys, you better be good. No fighting, and Eddie, don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” Lian said as she squinted and tried to shield her eyes from the sun while driving. She was worried. For no reason whatsoever.

“Hi, Chief!” Lillian yelled; Hopper raised his hand to wave. In the doorway to the cabin behind the police chief was Dustin. 

How long had it been? Almost seven years? Yeah… about that…

Dustin looked shy but interested. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his hair a mess of curls, a slight smile wiped across his face.

She looks exactly like the picture! Dustin thought. And it was true. She may not have been wearing a green t-shirt, but her face looked no different. Brown hair a mess of spikes, small freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose, her big playful eyes even bigger because of mascara… she was even prettier in person. Dustin realized that he had missed her. Missed doing crazy science experiments at the dining room table, he missed the moments where she would come home with small surprises in her bookbag, he missed her.

“Hi, Dusty!” She called and waved. Two of the kids with her almost knocked her over as they chased each other around, one was Mike Wheeler’s cousin who’s name Dustin didn’t remember, and the other was Stan. Richie was waving around what looked to be a small cloth frisbee. Within seconds Lian was running after them and yelling “RICHIE! GIVE IT BACK!” Dustin laughed. Whatever they were doing looked like it happened very often. 

As they ran around the road and front yard another boy yelled “Watch out for the water! It’s probably freezing!” The boy was thin chested and was also clutching an aspirator in one hand, this was… Andy…? Dustin didn’t remember.

Richie dropped the small piece of cloth and ran over to the boy, sweeping him towards him, and then picking him up like a small child. He protested and tried to get away for a minute, but then settled into Richie’s arms, burying his face into the taller boy’s neck who was hushing him. Dustin stared curiously and then turned his attention to his sister and Stan. They were close enough that Dustin could hear what they were saying.

“Thanks,” Stan said as Lian handed him the cloth thing. 

Lian said something in a different language –which Dustin identified as Hebrew—and Stan smiled. He put the thing on the back of his head and Dusty realized he was Jewish; it was a kippah. This shocked him for a second, and then he looked around. The girl with the red hair that kind of looked like Max was sitting on the hood of the car next to the chubby boy and they were both watching a video on someone’s iPad. The boy in glasses and the small boy were cuddling while leaning against the car, clearly in love. The only black kid was already talking to Lucas. Stanley was Jewish…they were called the Losers for a reason, weren’t they? 

Then there was Bill. He was pretty skinny, but not too tall for his age. Dustin felt a wave of jealousy wash over him, but the reason why was unclear. He simply was. He didn’t look extraordinarily handsome, he looked pretty awkward and lonely, he wasn’t in any way sexy to Dustin. Maybe it was something that his subconscious mind noticed that his conscience didn’t.

Lillian walked over to Bill and put a hand on his shoulder while whispering something in his ear. He nodded and looked over at Dustin, who quickly looked the other way. Bill began to approach Dustin and he thought ‘Oh, here we go. Don’t show them how awkward you are Dusty.’ 

.........................

“You wanted to make what, El?” Beverly asked laughing. El’s face turned a little red and she smiled, embarrassed.

“S’more Eggos.” She said softly. 

Max came to her defense and asked, “What is it to you?”

Bev’s smile faltered and she stared at Max. Was this girl gonna be a bitch this whole trip?

“I just thought it was a good idea, mostly because I love Eggos.”

El smiled wider and said, “Me too!” 

“I’m gonna make some too when we get there. Plus, I want to use my new telescope to look for constellations, planets, and stuff. It’s gonna be so dark out there that the stars will be easier to see.” Bev continued to glare at Max as if she were going to yell about that too. Max looked away, embarrassed, but also livid.

She didn’t like Beverly.

At all.

...............................

“So…” Mike started then paused. Richie didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. That’s how Richie always was, and Mike knew that… he knew that Rich just… didn’t care. But he also knew that El liked those kinds of boys…

“You and that one girl, huh?” Richie asked nonchalantly, Mike nodded.

The two cousins were sitting in the back of Jonathan’s new car, it was pretty big and fit seven people: Two in the front, three in the second row, and two in the trunk area, Mike and Richie were the trunk children. Jonathan was driving, Nancy as the passenger, and then Stan, Will, and Eddie in the second row already having a lively conversation.

“Yeah, her names Eleven.” Mike turned to look out the window thus a cue to end the conversation.

“She’s pretty.” 

Mike turned sharply to look a Richie who was on his phone and looked him over. 

Mike saw that Richie looked just like him, only with glasses and slightly better hair. El would barely be able to tell the difference in the dark… a sudden idea washed over Mike and he was filled with a loathing hatred. 

What if Richie likes Eleven? Mike thought. What if El breaks up with me for him?

Richie glanced up at Mike and then did a double-take as he saw the expression on his cousin’s face. Knowing exactly what Mike was thinking, he decided to stretch it out a little further.

“Woah there Mikey! I just was complimenting your gf and secretly thinking about her in bed! No need to freak!” Richie smirked and Mike leaned over and hissed in his face.

“You better watch it, Trashmouth. I will beat you up, I’m not afraid.” Then Mike turned away.

Richie mumbled an agreement and turned to look out the window. This was going to be a long w—

POP!

Someone screamed from the front of the car. It was blood-curdling, like a scream of pain mixed with terror. Richie was instantly reminded of when Eddie broke his arm. The memory flashed through his head and he felt terrified. 

Eddie. Where is Eddie?

Both of the airbags had exploded in Jonathan and Nancy’s faces and Nancy was screaming. Jonathan slammed on the breaks and Richie’s head hit the seat in front of him. He lost his sense of hearing for a moment and a light buzzing filled his ears, then he realized that he actually could hear… he could hear screams. 

‘Do not fucking touch me! Do not!’ They yelled. 

It was Eddie… but that happened over a year ago… how was Richie hearing this now?

Those screams were replaced by Stan’s. 

When he was attacked by the woman from the painting… how this was Bill’s fault… how he didn’t want this to happen… but then the whisper which came afterward… the one about how he loved Bill…

How he was sorry he was sad all the time.

Then it was just silence, all except for the airbags slowly deflating.

“Is everyone okay?” Jonathan asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie said shakily.

“Were fine,” Mike said, wide-eyed as he looked upfront. Nancy, however, didn’t answer the question. She was bleeding and had friction burns from the airbags, but she was too busy looking around out the window.

“Did you see that!?” She asked frantically, “Did you see the person in the road? The clown?”

Eddie screamed and then let out a small sob, like that of a tiny hapless animal. 

“What clown!? Where is it!?” He began to panic, and Richie felt that same sense of dread fill his gut, but Eddie came first. 

Did Eddie really scream those things? Or was it all in Richie’s head?

Richie unbuckled his seatbelt (thank goodness he’s been wearing it), stood up, and leaned forward towards where Eddie was sitting. As he touched his hand to Eddie’s soft, brown hair, he whispered:

“Hey, shhh… it could have been anything.” He plants a soft kiss on his head and then told Mike to switch seats with Eddie. Mike got out and they switched.  
Eddie looked at Richie as he settled into his arms and then looked back at Nancy who was talking again.

“It had a balloon and was wearing a silver suit with pom-poms on it as buttons…” Nancy trailed off.

“Red balloon?” Stan kept his voice low and even for Eddie. Nancy nodded. “Orange hair?” Nancy turned to look at the boy, eyes still as huge as saucers, and then she nodded again.  
“How would you know? Did you see it?” Jonathan asked.

“No…” Stanley paused. “Just a lucky guess.”

“Lucky guess, my ass,” Richie mumbled and then buried his head into Eddie’s neck.


	5. Red Hot Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie meets Will and Richie doesn't like it, and Max tells a story.

“Are you sure you know how to set up a damn tent?” Hopper asked Joyce as she struggled to even open the thing up.

“Yes, I am sure, now go mind your own business. I got this.” Joyce shot him a look and then attempted to show off by spreading out the insulated fabric with a flourish but ended up tripping on some kind of cord hanging from it. Hopper tried to cover up his laugh with a cough, but Joyce wasn’t fooled.

“You think this is funny? Then why don’t you try, dumbass!?” Joyce stalked away.

Will had been watching this from a distance. In his mind, he saw Hopper and Joyce as friends. Never had he ever considered having a new dad, ever. Ever since Jonathan got married to Mike’s sister Nancy his world has been different. No longer feeling happy for his older brother, no longer wanting to hang out with Mike, always trying to figure out his new extended family’s ways…

Mike was now his cousin. So, did that mean Richie was too? It made no sense.

None at all.

“Hi,” A voice said from beside him, he turned and found himself looking over the top of someone’s head. The sudden voice and the shortness of this person made him laugh in surprise. It was just the kid with asthma, no big deal.

“Hi?” Will looked down at the small boy in red short shorts and a yellow t-shirt.

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie’s face went red. He realized how awkward he was being and tried to loosen up, but his throat… well, his throat never loosened. Fumbling with the zipper on his fanny pack, he tried to spark up a conversation.

“Umm… what’s your name?”

“I’m Will. Will Byers… nice weather for camping, huh?”

'Don’t show him how awkward you are, don’t show him how awkward you are, Eddie. Don’t. Just don’t.' He thought as he took a few blasts on his aspirator.

“Thank you.” Eddie paused as his face grew an even darker crimson. ‘Thank you? Really Eddie? He commented on the weather! Not you!’

Eddie’s mind was racing. This boy was cute. Eddie didn’t know why he thought this boy was cute, or what was so attractive about him, but he was.

“Umm… y-your welcome?” Will's heart began to speed up at this tiny boy’s slightly chubby cheeks, and the small freckles. Was he single? Did he even like boys?

“Sorry… I just get a little sweaty around cute b—I mean regular people.” Eddie’s chest tightened again at his messed-up words. “Well, umm… Richie!” He called out to the four-eyed boy who fighting with Mike Wheeler again.

“What do you want Eddie?” Richie snapped rounding on his love. Then the angry expression left Richie’s face as he saw how close Will was standing to his Spaghetti, his cutie… his snack. The only thing he was physically able to do at this moment was to stand in between Will and Eddie and bite the bowl-cut rat if needed.

“Who is this?” He asked as he approached.

“This is Will. I thought you knew him.” Eddie looked at Richie curiously. Was Rich about to bitch-slap Will?

“I do, but what I meant is ‘what is he to you?’” Richie kept glaring; eyebrows furrowed. 

'What does this rat think he’s doing with my baby?' Richie's mind screamed.

“Potentially a new friend? Look, Richie, stop freaking out. I’m the one who approached him, okay? He’s fine.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Good, now what’s up?’

“Stop fighting with your cousin. It’s almost bedtime.” Eddie blushed at the word bedtime, but it was too late to take that word back.

“Aww… is Eddie Spaghetti tired? Does he want a glass of warm milk and then tummy time?” Richie pinched the boy's cheeks and Eddie shoved him away.

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie whined, sounding like a child. Richie smiled and then scooped the boy up.

Richie walked away with Eddie nuzzling into his neck, leaving Will very confused.

That night Lian felt a dark feeling in her gut. Her hair wouldn’t lie flat, her eyes were way too sensitive to any light, everything would go blurry if she turned her head in a certain way or sat for too long…

It was like some sort of Spidey Sense.

She tried talking about it to Bill, but he didn’t seem to feel anything off.

Lillian shivered as she heard those words. Nothing was off. Nothing.

They all sat around the fire that night wanting to tell scary stories and Eleven obviously wanted to make her S’more Eggos, Beverly tried some too, Max glaring at her the whole time.

“Who wants to go first?” Mike Hanlon asked looking around.

“First for whah?” Ben asked falling into an odd tone of voice by accident. Everyone laughed, including Ben.

“Whahhhhhh?” Beverly asked, gently hitting Ben on his shoulder. “Remember that Vine? The girl reading the word ‘who’ as ‘whahhh?’”

“Sorry, I have no idea what happened to my voice there. Puberty I guess.” He laughed, as the chuckles began to die down, he asked again.

“First for what, Mikey?”

“Scary stories! Duh.” Mike picked up a long, sharp, stick and stuck a marshmallow on the end to roast.

“Ooh! I got one!” Max exclaimed. 

“Then let’s hear it!” Joyce exclaimed excitedly. Hopper smiled at her reaction.

“Alright…” She cleared her throat and waited for everyone to settle in. “There were two twins. Two beautiful twin girls. Born only three minutes from each other. The parents loved both of them, but unfortunately, the parents favored one girl more than the other.

“The favored girl had long red hair, a few brown freckles here and there along her face, and pretty blue eyes. But the other girl…” Max laughed a cold laugh and glanced at Beverly, who’s face was completely slack.

“The other girl had dirty red boyish hair, gross green eyes, and freckles all over her disgusting face.” Max hissed between her teeth. 

Bev gritted her teeth in anger. This was not a funny joke, let alone a scary story, but Beverly held her smart responses to herself.

“One day, the girls went out to the apple orchard, but they began to bicker –as always...” Max stood up and looked around at the confused faces.

“The ugly girl was standing on the ladder picking the apples that were up high, and the pretty girl was picking the apples down low. The ugly girl asked if the pretty girl could hold the ladder for her while she climbed higher, so the pretty girl agreed.”

“Well, you want to know why the “pretty girl” was picking the lower apples?” Bev exploded with anger. Max wheeled around to face Beverley.

“Why, Bev?” Max smirked. “How does my story go?”

“Because she’s a bottom!” Bev stood up.

Max’s mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed. “Do you wanna fight, bitch?!”

“Gladly, ho.” Beverley made a move for Max, but someone grabbed both of them from behind, Ben grabbed Bev and Lucas grabbed Max.

“Woah, woah, woah…” Hopper rose to his feet too and looked at both of his girls. “What’s going on? It’s just a damn story!”

Bev gritted her teeth and strained against Ben’s grasp on her hand as she growled: “IT’S NOT JUST A DAMN STORY! IT’S ABOUT ME!” 

Suddenly, completely out of nowhere Ben let out a small scream and let go of his girlfriend's hand in shock. Max looked at Ben curiously as he shook out his hand like he had touched something extremely hot, and then looked up at Bev, who was still fuming. 

Ben saw the sizzling red hot skin on his hand and realized, he had just been burned. He had no idea how, but Bev burned him.

Beverly lunged for Max, who suddenly snapped back to reality. She barely had time to turn away. Max would have gotten away… but… her hair…

Her long, luscious, red hair. The hair that was “so” much better than Bev’s. 

Beverly grabbed a large fistful of it and yanked backward. Sharp screams filled the air as Max turned and fell face-first into the roaring firepit…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA HA! Cliffhangers are real bitches!


	6. The Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions arise when Stanley somehow saves Max's life, and Eddie goes for a midnight stroll and catches sight of an odd gate.

Someone screamed, but Max was too phased to hear it. All she heard was the roaring and popping of the flames below her, but something was off…

Max was floating. She was hovering in mid-air, feet still planted on the ground, but her body was at an angle. With a sudden blow she was thrown back over the logs behind her and she skid along the ground. Sharp pain burst through her elbows as the rocks and dirt skinned them. A burning smell filled her nose and it was instantly assumed that her face was melting or something, but it felt fine…

Max sat up in shock.

“El! Did you save me from the witch!?” Max gasped staring at Eleven, but El shook her head. Everyone else was staring at Bev… who was staring at her hands…

And the kid with the curly hair, who was now on his feet and gaping at Max. A bit of blood was flowing from the corners of his eyes and running in streaks down his cheeks. What was his name? Uh… Sid? No… Stan.

“If no one is going to speak then I will…” Richie’s eyes were as wide as an anime’s behind his thick-lensed glasses. “What. The. Fuck!?”

The group was thrown into chaos as Beverly attempted to explain how it was an accident, Ben rubbed his burn mark and started to yell for his girlfriend.

“Leave her alone! She didn’t mean to really hurt anyone!” Ben tried pushing past Joyce and Jonathan, but they wouldn’t move. 

Max who was wondering why her hair was singed since Beverly was holding it, and it was nowhere near the fire, Hopper tried to contain the panic, and Lian sat staring in complete and utter silence.

Bill got up from his place and grabbed Stan’s arm as firm as he could, dragging him away.

“What was that!?” Bill hissed, stutter falling away like it never existed.

“I-I- Bill, I don’t know… I didn’t do anything. I-I-“ Stan was the one who was sputtering now. He was just as flabbergasted. 

“You stood up, your hand shot out, and Max goes flying across the fucking grass like a bird caught in front of a jet!” Then, with sudden concern, he wiped some of the blood off of Stan’s face with his thumb and brushed the mess of curls out of his eyes. “Why are your eyes bleeding?!”

“I don’t fucking know Bill!” Stan wiped his eyes hastily and looked at his love. Real tears were forming now. “How do you know it was me?”  
“I just do, okay, I—” 

“No, Bill!” Stan snapped, “Intuition doesn’t work like that. It will never work like that!”

“Stan—”

“No, shut the fuck up, Bill.” Stan wiped his still streaming eyes again. “It wasn’t me. If there is no proof, then it’s not true.”

Stan walked back towards the people squawking around the fire, counting his steps meticulously as he went.

Max had to cut off six inches of her hair… her beautiful hair singed by the hands of the ugliest girl in the world. It disgusted Max.

“I think you look pretty, Max,” Lucas said trying to make her feel better, but he knew it wasn’t going to work. Maxine Mayfield was miserable.

What really made her mad was that she’s had to fight off Demodogs and a Mind Flayer from a different dimension, and what has Beverly done? Cut her hair so she fit in with the boys? Been abused? That’s about it.

Max laid down on her sleeping bag after brushing her teeth with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a water bottle, and she stared up at the clear ceiling. The stars were out. Max found herself wondering if Beverly was out looking up at the stars with her telescope. Maybe the boy who saved her from the burning fire was there too…

She shook her head trying to clear these thoughts. She didn’t care about Beverly. She didn’t.

She… but she somehow did.  
......................................

“Hello?” Eddie called out.   
He looked around and saw nothing but trees. He was lost. 

Why the fuck would you go looking for an animal in the middle of the freaking night?! His mind screeched. 

His chest and throat tightened up as the panic swept over him like a wave, washing him away and causing his vision to go dark for a minute. Not that it wasn’t already dark or anything, but Eddie started to feel dizzy. He had lost all sense of direction at this point. All of it.

Big Bill had always called Eddie the ‘Human GPS’ for a reason, but now those hopes were lost. Just as lost as he was.

He kept walking. That’s all he could do, well… besides pray that any bear that inhabited this area would refrain from eating him until he was dead. Eddie’s mind jumped at this thought and his flight or fight response kicked in, causing his heart to beat fast, his palm’s got sweaty, and his skin began to crawl.

I want Richie. A voice said in the back of Eddie’s head. The baby side of him. 

That was the side that made him want to be held by the Trashmouth and kissed sweetly on the neck. The side of him that wanted to go to Lillian in the night when he was scared and had another bad dream. The side of him that wanted more than Rich. He wanted Stanley and Bill too. He wouldn’t mind cuddling with them, as long as they were clean and had recently taken a shower.

He had just wanted someone.

His flashlight began to flicker and make a humming sound. Eddie shook it and hit it on the palm of his hand, but it didn’t do shit. It kept turning on and off inconsistently.

“Oh, crap, no, no, no, no. SHIT!” He cursed as it went out completely. The darkness swelled and tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes and he pushed them away, annoyed. 

‘What a baby!’ A voice echoed around him. ‘Look at the queer cry! Boo hoo hoo.’

The voice was very familiar. It cracked and changed tone and pitch with every word. It wasn’t the clown, right? No, It couldn’t be here. Bill once said that It was Derry. That’s where It resides. It can’t move, right?

“It’s not real Eddie. It’s not real.” He whispered to himself. “It’s just your head.”

‘Is it though, Kaspbrak? Is it really?’ The voice echoed again.

The flashlight flicked on again and Eddie was face to face with a split. A split in the tree in front of him. There was a long stretch of vine-like things coming from it. The opening pulsated… like it was alive…

Like it was breathing. Heavily. A soft glow protruded from it as well, a type of ugly aura.

Eddie found himself unconsciously stepping closer to this mess of slime and webs. The light. The material that breaths. It was as alive as Eddie. As conscience as a human.

‘That’s nonsense, Bill.’ Eddie heard Stan say in the back of his head. That was from an argument a while back. Bill was talking about the possibility that It wasn’t dead, and Stan flipped. He began to yell at Bill and Eddie was caught in the middle of it, covering his ears because he didn’t want to hear it. ‘That’s bullshit! You’re bullshit!’

Bill had cried that night. 

Stan did too.

He was about three feet from the entrance by now. It whispered his name. The things in the trees did, I mean. The things with the faces that open into jaws with many teeth. The flower-like things. 

‘There is one for all of them!’ It giggled from the darkness behind the web. ‘There is one that looks like you, one that looks like Richie, and another for Miss Marsh…’   
Eddie slowly stuck out his hand to touch—just one touch—the web. To feel the—

With a sudden bang, a white-gloved hand shot out of the web, barely missing Eddie’s own arm. He gasped and fell backward with a thud.

The tentacles began to move on their own, wrapping around his bare legs. Eddie almost laughed at the realization that he wasn’t wearing pants, just briefs, but under these circumstances, there was no laughter to come out.

He scrambled up as he saw the figure emerge from the slimy gate. It had a silver suit, orange hair, orange pompoms, and a painted red smile. IT. It was back and worse than fucking ever.

Eddie fell back again and felt the squelch of the goo underneath his thighs. 

‘Come on Wheezy. Come play with your good friend Pennywise.’ It croaked as it reached for him, but Eddie scrambled to his feet again. ‘We can talk about our love for Richie Tozier. How cute he is… how much you wish for a blow job! I can give you one you know! I can!’

It’s face changed into the leper, just like it had a few years before. The rotting flesh stinking up the air around him even more than the gate did.

Another cackle cracked through the air and Eddie began to run, leaving his flashlight behind.  
..........................................

A scream woke the entire camp. Richie recognized that scream as Eddie’s and bolted upright in his sleeping bag, instantly awake, his heart racing. Stan and Bill did the same, but Rich was first out of the tent flap.

Eddie, the voice in the back of Richie’s head screamed, but he refrained from saying it out loud.

Eddie came running through the break in the trees covered head to toe with a slimy substance that shone in the moonlight. He collapsed on the ground and Richie sprinted over to him.

“EDDIE!” 

The boy was sobbing for air and shaking, his tears leaving clean streaks on his soft cheeks. Richie ignored the slime and wrapped his arms around his child.

“Someone go get his damn aspirator!” Stan commanded. Bill ran off back towards the tent.

“Holy shit, what happened!?” Dustin exclaimed. 

“We don’t know. Let’s just get his inhaler to him so he can breathe.” Stan pushed the slimy hair out of Eddie’s eyes and looked at him. Eddie looked terrified and shaken.

“Someone go for a midnight run?” Richie whispered in Eddie’s ear. This seemed to calm the small boy down a bit, and he let himself relax in Rich’s arms.

Bill was back with the aspirator, held it up to the asthmatic’s mouth, and told him to take a deep breath.

The problem was when Eddie could breathe again, he said he had no story to tell.

Everyone else was great at picking up this lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, it was good! Let me know what you think! I've been cranking out chapters surprisingly fast lately, so the next one should be soon.


	7. Demidevils and Red Balloons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie has a dream, Bill reads a mind, and Stan loses control. And this is all happening in the midst of unknown chaos.
> 
> The story is just beginning.

Richie was worried. He couldn’t sleep, he barely blinked, and he felt trapped. All he could do was stare at Eddie’s gentle face and comfort him whenever he woke.

“But I saw… I… it was back there and it—” Eddie sputtered. He faced Richie and sat in his lap, their groins touching. Richie took him outside to get some fresh air.

“I know, Eddie. But you have to tell us the story if you want us to help.” Richie whispered groggily. 

Eddie leaned back, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and then looked at Richie with a slight pout. Richie pressed his lips to Eddie’s and let some tongue slip into the boy’s mouth almost as a source of comfort. They had showered together a little bit ago to get the gooey stuff off and still wanted that skin to skin contact, but they weren’t getting it. Not with all of these people around.

Eddie smiled softly at this gesture and then settled again with his face buried into Richie’s neck. His breathing slowed and Rich knew within a few minutes, Eddie was asleep.

............................

It was about five in the morning when Richie fell asleep. His eyes just wouldn’t stay open for any longer, and his brain was fuzzy like it was stuffed with cotton balls. He vaguely remembered feeling this way after staying up all night on YouTube watching Dora the Grownup and Grownup Caillou animations.

“Now those,” Richie had said sleepily to Stan one afternoon while watching the younger kids play on the school playground, “Were chuckalicious.”

As Richie slept, he began to dream. It wasn’t any ordinary dream; it was much too… vivid? 

In his dream, he saw a creature he’d never seen before. It was roughly the same size as a human, but the faces were different, odd, but also familiar. They were deathly pale like they had just awoken in a crypt, their eyes were sunken and had the widest damn pupils you have ever seen –‘Doll eyes’ was Richie’s first thought—but their facial features seemed so damn recognizable, it was crazy. Especially one… its cheeks were slightly chubby –a mark of baby fat that had never completely died away—, it’s hair (despite being filled with the same odd slime that Eddie had been covered with hours before) was brown and swept to the side, it’s shirt was a faded pink, and it had a cast… this thing looked like Eddie. Then he realized what these things were. They were like the Neibolt Losers... but... not?

There was one that was slightly fatter than the rest—Ben no doubt—, one with a baseball cap that was Dustin, another had neat curly hair which was obviously Stanley.  
There was a small hiss sound coming from around Richie as the faces started to split, the slime stretching across these gaps like spit in someone’s mouth, and there were four sections… 

‘What is this? Some kind of ugly ass flower?’ Rich thought as he backed away. ‘Where’s Undertale’s Flowey the Flower? Am I in the Underground? IS THIS UNDERTALE!?’

Richie shoved those thoughts away as he heard a louder hiss coming from behind him. He spun around and saw the clown suit… but the face… there was no damn face anymore.   
Just flower-like jaws with millions of little teeth that stretched and moved on their own, they were covered in thick strands of saliva, red caked on blood, and chunks of rotting meat, like some kind of werewolf from that old movie Richie watched one day a few years back—‘I Was A Teenage Werewolf’, Richie thought—but this was no wolf. 

Trashmouth Tozier was caught between a rock and a hard place and talking wasn't going to get him out now—wait. 

Talking just might work.

“Weird flex you meaty clown, but okay, you do you I guess,” Richie yelled. The face of the monster closed and melted back into a regular clown. It smiled broadly and giggled.

“I’m doing good for myself aren’t I, Richie?” Its voice cracked. Rich shook his head.

“Yeah, but I’m doing better.”

“Why? Because you have the love of your life wrapped around your cock?” It tilted Its head back and cackled. “Bob Gray gets off a good one, wight? A real good one, Richie!”

“Laughing at your own joke is a little cocky, don’t you think?” Rich smirked and the clown faked a frown. Red rivers ran down It’s cheeks as it “cried”. 

“Oh no, no, no, no…” It sobbed. “No one will laugh with ol’ Pennywise anymore.” The blood dripped onto It’s suit and It wiped It away hastily. “Don’t cry, silly clown, don’t.” 

“I’m not falling for your damn games, you sonofabitch. What the hell are these, your allies?” Richie gestured to the still figures standing to his left completely still.

“These are my Demidevils, Richie! I’m glad you asked! Ask your cousin, he might know about this place…”

Rich looked around noticing his surrounding clearly for the first time and saw the campsite, but it was too dark, and too cold to be real. It was just a dream. This was nothing. He was still in the evergreen colored tent with Eddie sleeping peacefully next to him, but still, he couldn’t help but ask the next question.

"Where am I?"

“Welcome to the Upside Down, comedian wight. We all float down here.” Pennywise whispered and things faded to black. Rich woke up with a sudden jolt.

His eyes flew open in surprise and he found himself staring into the eyes of Joyce and Will Byers kneeling above his sleeping bag, and he began to scream.

.......................................

Apparently, Beverly had accidentally set a tree on fire. She had no idea how, but she did. Thankfully, Hopper, Jonathan, Nancy, and Mike Hanlon had put it out before it spread, but the problem was that Bev wasn’t even holding a lighter or anything remotely hot, she just didn’t understand. 

No one did. Except for Lillian.

“It sounds way out of the box, but I think Beverly has that one superpower called pyrokinesis or something.” Lillian confided in her cousin over the phone as both she and Bill made a run to the nearest gas station to get legitimate firewood for later.

“Really, Lian?” Wyatt asked, “You sound crazy.”

“I know, but she’s burned Max’s hair with her bare hands, she set a tree on fire, and burnt Ben’s hand to the first degree. There isn’t any other explanation! If you have something else smart and logical then let me know.”

“Okay, I’ll find something.” Then Wyatt hung up. Lian groaned and shoved her phone into her back pocket.

Bill walked out from behind a shelf of chips and looked at his mom weird. Lillian stared down at him and he stared back for a minute then Bill began to speak.

“H-how come you t-t-told Wyatt, even if you don’t actually b-be-believe it y-yourself?” He asked and Lillian felt her face go slack.

'Because it's impossible, you can't set fire to things with your bare hands.' Lillian thought as clearly as she could. Bill frowned.

“Well, P-P-Pen-Pennywise was real. He killed Juh-Juh-Georgie and I have p-proof.” He responded. Lian tried to keep a straight face as he replied because Lian wasn’t actually opening her mouth to say anything. Yet…

Yet Bill was responding with ease.

‘Yeah, but Bev’s never done shit like this before.’ Lillian thought.

“Th-That doesn’t m-muh—” Bill’s speech faltered as the realization came across his face. “Wait, you h-huh-haven’t actually s-said any-anything yet huh-have you?”

Lian shook her head and Bill’s face went slack too.

‘Pizza. I. Hate. Pizza. I only eat it because you do.’ Lian thought, trying to test Bill’s odd and sudden ability. 

“Wait! You do?!” He asked surprised. “Why d-d-didn’t you tuh-tuh-tell me?”

Lillian grabbed his hand causing him to drop his chips. The gas station was so empty that no one was around to see them leave without paying for the firewood.

“We gotta tell the others. Because now there is a definite possibility that the only fiery thing Bev has is flaming hair.”

........................................

This time it wasn’t Mike and Richie arguing. Now it was Mike and Will. The Trashmouth had decided to fool Mike by attempting to flirt with Eleven…  
He had strolled up to Eleven who was sunbathing in a two-piece swimsuit on the banks of a nearby river.

“Hey, baby! What’s poppin’?” He asked in his best seductive voice. He hoped it would work on girls too since he wasn’t used to ‘heterosexual’ flirtation.

“Not much, Richie. How are you?” She pulled the sunglasses up to her forehead and looked at the boy next to her. Richie felt his bisexual body flush for a minute, and he decided to crack a joke to cover up his embarrassment. 

“Nothing but the sky, the clouds, and my wang.” He winked, “Looking good sweetheart.”

“Only gay people like you call people sweetheart.” El winked. She knew his secret. She knew.

“W-What… how do you…?” Richie faltered.

“I’ve seen the way you act around Eddie. It’s obvious and cute. He loves you.” She smiled and stared up at the clouds passing above them. Richie felt relieved. 

“I’m actually Bi, but how come your butthole boyfriend doesn’t get that?”

Eleven laughed and looked back at Richie. He was cute, but he was no Mike Wheeler.

“Mike? Mike isn’t good at picking up passive-aggressive hints like that.”

“I guess I should know tat, huh, schweetheart?” Rich winked and then laid back with his new friend. 

Mike took notice of the two’s interactions and angrily headed their way. He was not about to let this happen.

‘I swear to God, if that sack of nut energy is flirting with my girlfriend, I will behead him.’ Mike thought as he gritted his teeth.

“Dude, leave him alone, he’s not hurting anyone.” Will said grabbing Mike’s arm before he could take another step.

“That bitch,” Mike yanked his arm from Will’s grasp and turned to face him. “Is trying to steal my girl.”

“No, he’s not.”

“What, all of a sudden you queer people can read minds!” Mike shoved Will. “That’s my—"

“Guys!” A voice called from the entrance to the campsite. Mike and Will turned to look and saw Lillian practically dragging Bill by his shirt collar. The fear in her eyes said it all and everyone began to approach.

“What happened?” Eleven asked standing up from her spot on the ground. Lian told Nancy –who was the closest to the entrance—to stand up. She listened.

“Think of Barb,” Lian instructed. Nancy cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Just do it. Think of what she looked like.”

Nancy recalled her favorite memory of her best friend and tried to concentrate on it, but she felt something… odd, I guess is the right word. Like someone was burrowing their way into her head, er… if that makes sense, I guess. It’s a gross visual image, but it works.

“Her name was B-B-Barbra Holland. She h-huh-had pinkish g-glasses, red hair that was p-p-pretty short, and th-there was one year where you w-w-went trick-or-treating as a b-buh-b-b-b…bunny and she went as a cluh-clown. You’re th-thuh-thinking of how sh-shhhh-she died…” Bill was staring at Nancy and his nose…

“His nose is bleeding!” Lucas yelled and walked over to Bill. He raised one hand and wiped a bit of blood from Bill’s upper lip and showed it to the others.

“Were you reading my mind?!” Nancy asked in awe. Bill looked at her and shrugged.

“Wait a minute… were you born in Maine?” Hopper asked. Bill just nodded in reply and watched Lucas wipe the deep red blood on Bill’s shirt sleeve. “Then… how do you have powers?”

“So, I really did start that damn fire.” Bev sat down heavily. “Smokey the bear’s worst fucking enemy.”

“Just because he wasn’t born in Hawkins doesn’t mean anything, papa,” Eleven said to Hopper. Hopper nodded and looked at Lillian.

“What are you all looking at me for?” Lian waved her hands in the air and then looked at Stan. “Does that mean you really did save Max?”

“No,” Stan said sternly. “You guys are being fucking crazy. How do we know this isn’t one of Richie’s crazy pranks? And what does a nosebleed have to do with mindpowers?”

“Stanley—” 

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Stan—"

“NO!” Stan yelled and a sudden blast of air hit everyone, knocking most of them over along with a few small trees. And Stan… he was standing at the center.

Silence fell over them like a blanket and Stan stared just looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“No.” He whispered, stunned.

“Bad time to say it… but I had a funky dream this morning,” Richie said, voice breaking the quiet air.

“Will it make you feel better if I ask what it was about?” Eddie asked sitting up from where he lay sprawled out on the ground.

“Look over at that red balloon in the trees over there and you’ll have your weird but wickedly true answer.”

After a few seconds, the only thing that could be heard was Stan’s quiet sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character Wyatt is not based on Wyatt Oleff, but after my brother instead.
> 
> My God. I've been so busy lately that my stories are turning into shit. I'm so sorry.


	8. Tell Me A Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie confirm their relationship and things get heated. The others confirm their stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing smut! I'm sorry if it cuts off a little early, I just didn't want to make the chapter too long. Let me know what you think! I really appreciate comments and constructed criticism.

“For this to work then we need everyone to tell everything they know about the stuff that’s going on. I know it’s happening fast and it’s confusing and no one really knows each other that well yet… but let’s try it.” Hopper was staring at the pale faces around the fire as he spoke, each person looking more worried than the last. 

“Who’s gonna go first?” Mike Wheeler asked. Eddie whispered that he should, and Richie started to slide a hand up the back of the boy’s shirt as slowly as he could, so he didn’t attract too much attention. Either no one notice or no one cared because not a word was said.

Eddie began to explain hearing a noise in the woods when he woke up last night. 

“I didn’t mean to follow it… it kind of just happened…” Eddie’s eyes began to well up with tears at the thought of the disgusting creature coming back to kill them all.  
Thoughts in the boy's head were speeding faster than the racehorses he saw on TV one time a year back. His first thought was that the leper was going to touch him and infect him with leprosy and ‘syph’ or whatever disease Bill had told him about that came from fucking, the next thought was that Richie was touching him and any area of his back that Richie’s hand rested on tingled with delight, the thought after that one was that he might have to tell these strangers that he sucked flamer cock, and the final realization was that he might have some kind of superpowers.

Was asthma his odd ability? No. He thought not.

Everyone listened intently as Eddie spoke with a quivering high-pitched voice, it was like they… they just knew about things like this.

Ben was curious why they weren’t freaking out and reacting strangely as the asthmatic sitting across from them recounted a story about a creepy clown in the woods while he sucked on his aspirator every five minutes, but maybe they were too frightened to say a thing. Or maybe they have had something like this happen to them before… had they met It? But… Bill had said that ‘It’ was Derry, hadn’t he?

Hopper was damn right when he said that things were going fast, but that’s not the worst part. The worst part was that these fast happenings made no sense what-so-ever.

Richie took Eddie for a small walk to the nearest gas station to pick up a few things like snacks. After telling his tale he was hyperventilating to the point where his vision was going black and he could taste a coppery substance in the back of his throat, making him want to throw up. Richie had picked him up and began to walk.

“We’re going to the gas station! We’ll be back soon!” And just like that, they left. 

“Hey,” Richie whispered. “I think you did good telling that story. It was fucking scary, but you did well.”

A small whimper escaped from Eddie’s mouth as he held back his flood of tears, but Richie ignored that and continued to praise him. Soft whispers filled Eddie’s head, his whole body relaxed at one point, and his small kitten-like cries stopped, it was working.

Richie’s stomach jumped and he remembered what he had actually taken Eddie out here for. They needed to talk. The talk they had been avoiding for months now because it was too big for their minds to conquer let alone their mouths. For once Trashmouth Tozier was at a loss for words.

“Eds, we need to talk about our…” He took a deep breath and tried to muster up as much courage as he could. “Our relationship.”

Eddie leaned back to stare into Richie’s overly large eyes. Did he mean…? Was he talking about… you know…sex? Eddie felt a butterfly flutter in his stomach and his heart began to race like a soapbox car. The boys came across a fallen tree that wasn’t too far from the empty and desolate road, so they sat side by side. A cold breeze blew across his neck and he tucked his legs up to his chest for warmth. Richie pulled off his sweatshirt and handed it to Eddie.

“We haven’t really discussed if we’re exclusive or not and I was wondering what you thought. That’s all.” He snuck his hand over to Eddie’s thigh and gave a light squeeze, Eddie stared out at the blank and dark road in front of him. 

The moon was out, and it let off a lot of light, the wind was running back toward the way they came from, and the air was hot. Hot but not muggy. The breeze helped the heat quite a bit. Just like the night before when Beverly was out using the telescope with Stan, there were stars. Millions of little lights staring down at them from space.  
Eddie could barely believe that they were so bright he could see them, even from millions of miles away. He remembered learning from Stan that the sun was actually the closest star to earth and Eddie felt like his mind had been blown, at first—

“So, I guess the real question is… do you like me or not?” Richie’s voice broke onto Eddie’s thoughts. He looked over at Rich for a second and then rolled his eyes.

“Really, Rich?” Eddie smirked a little.

“What?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

Richie stared blankly then smiled a sweet and shy smile that Eddie had never seen before, but he adored it. It gave him that boiling feeling in his stomach that he loved so much.  
“I guess not, huh?” Richie said. “Do you want to be ‘exclusive’?” 

“I mean… I thought that was something that was already happening between us, just in an unspoken way. You know?” Eddie buried his face into Richie’s t-shirt and Richie embraced him. 

The fabric was soft, and it smelled good, he didn’t feel like moving. When he was close to Richie, he felt safe from the clown and any other danger outside of their own little worlds.

“Sure, I do. And… while we’re at it… how do you feel about sex?” Richie said in a joking way, but internally, he really wanted to know.

“Rich, we’re young still. We don’t need to.” Eddie sighed. He knew that was coming.

“But I… well… a while ago, I did it with Stan—” 

“You did what!?” Eddie sat up with a start and gaped at Richie. This made him a little mad, maybe because he loved Richie too much and didn’t want to let him have anyone else or something, he wasn’t sure.

“Hey! We just became exclusive. You can’t blame me. But… well, Stan was having a bad day and we ended up cuddling and then… it turned into grinding… and then fucking. It was kind of… therapeutic, I guess. I felt like I let go of something besides a large load of cum that day. It felt good on a whole new level.” Richie explained defensively. “If you’re not up to it then that’s fine.”

“Therapeutic?” Eddie asked curiously. Richie nodded. 

Then the much smaller boy did something extremely surprising. He began to climb into Richie’s lap and sit facing him. The words were once again taken from the Trashmouth as he felt the warm slightly wet tent in Eddie’s red short shorts press against his own. Rich opened his mouth in protest but all that came out was a soft moan as Eddie ground down on Richie’s rapidly stiffening cock and Eddie smiled in the darkness.

“Is this what you mean?” Eddie asked softly and then reaching up to take the Trashmouth’s glasses and set them down on the tree trunk. Richie squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing and rapid heartbeat. Then he decided it would be better to watch and take in the scene— to enhance the experience, I guess. Eddie’s brown eyes were huge and slightly teary, causing the stars to reflect in them, like little bright lights shining from the deepest depths of his soul, and they could only show if Richie provoked them, but the Trashmouth knew it was a far-out thought, but this was a far-out experience; the out of body kind.

Eddie’s cheeks were definitely pink, even in the dark, it was obvious. That’s always how Eddie had been. If Richie teases him then his soft cheeks will go rosy, if Richie’s hand accidentally brushed Eddie’s when grabbing a soda cup at the movie’s then his cheeks will turn a candy heart kind of pink, if Eddie accidentally tripped and landed at Richie’s feet then his cheeks would go crimson, but now his whole face would be a whole fucking rose red. It was clear and Richie could almost picture it in a better light. One of the sun rather than the moon, but I digress.

Eddie had no idea what he was doing. All he knew is that he could not be outdone by Stanley. He would not take that. Stan could not be better than Eddie when it came to this. He ground a little deeper and bit his lip to hold back a cry. It felt like the butterflies had migrated right down to muscles he had never even known about and he hoped this could go on forever.

They heard a car drive by on the road, but they were perfectly out of view, and Eddie had the perfect view. Everything was perfect. Richie, Eddie, the downed tree, and the stars. He wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. Even though he still thought that they were too young, but no one had to know.

Eddie found his hand mindlessly creeping to the zipper on Richie’s shorts and he moaned as he felt the hardness beneath it. This was therapeutic. Definitely. For once something insane that Richie had said made sense. He worked the zipper loose with one hand and then slid off of Richie’s lap to his feet to pull both of their shorts off. Then Richie pulled off his shirt revealing the little bit of muscle underneath –not much, but there was still something there—, and it made Eddie giddy with excitement, his cock straining against the fabric of his briefs wanting to be let free. He was planning on giving it its wish.

Through his gasps of breath Richie panted, “Eddie Spaghetti, you don’t have to do this. It’s your choice, not mine.”

Eddie just shook his head and then they both yanked off their underwear in excitement, revealing Eddie’s decent-sized pink dick that was so stiff it almost touched his stomach and Richie’s college boy cock—long enough to jazz with, but not thick enough to be arrogant. Richie gasped and then bit his lip as hard as he could to keep from crying out, both their dicks were dripping with pre-cum and they wanted to do something about it—and they would. They’d make sure of it. 

Eddie climbed back onto Richie and started palming his lover’s cock and then he grasped it with one hand hesitantly. Richie’s hips thrust forward to chase the touch that made his insides twist like a rollercoaster at Valley Fair, and since he didn’t have anything to do with his mouth he guided Eddie’s mouth towards his and slipped him some hot tongue. Eddie squeezed a little harder, let go, and then slid back, pulling Richie to the ground so they could get more comfortable.

“Okay, I have no clue what I’m doing, so… you’re the expert,” Eddie said squatting over Richie. Rich nodded and pushed on the boy’s shoulders; a silent instruction telling him to sit. 

“Just relax and move in a way that feels good.” Richie’s words were strained as his dick throbbed and ached with pressure. 

'It’s been a while since I’ve jacked off, huh?' He thought as he began to massage Eddie’s ass, palming it and then gently rubbing two fingers around the ring of muscles. Eddie cried out and buried his face into Richie’s neck. 

“You want my dick in you? Huh, lover? You want me to fill you with cum?” Richie asked gently, testing to see if the dirty talk would work on Eddie, and it did. Richie could tell because his hips responded, not his mouth.

He took some slick and hot pre-cum that ran down Eddie’s cock and used that as lube to open the squirming boy up. As carefully as he could he began to loosen him up.

..................................

“So, you’re telling me that she—Eleven—has powers too?” Ben asked staring at Mike Wheeler over the fire.

“Yeah, didn’t you ever realize her name was actually a number? I mean, that’s not her real name, but it’s what we call her. El for short.”

“My real name is Jane.” Eleven chimed in and Ben looked over at her with a smile.

“I think that suits you very well.” He nodded. 

“Prove it.” Stanley was glaring at them from his spot against a tree a few meters away. “Prove to me that you are some kind of crazy telekinetic monster.” 

“But, dude, you are too!” Lucas exclaimed jumping to his feet. “Do you have to constantly doubt everything that we say?!”

“It’s not real. Monsters from a different dimension aren’t real, superpowers aren’t real, evil Russians living under a mall, guess what… not real!” Stan snapped at Lucas, his eyes looking even more wild in the light of the bonfire. His face also looked worn, like that of a thirty-year-old rather than a thirteen-year-old. You could see the shadow of what he would become as he grew, curls still existing but not as vibrantly, a shadow of facial hair caused by the shadows of the fire, and a few lines from years of smiling that just happened to be more prominent in this glow of

(January embers)

Red-ish and orange light. His eyes were also glistening with tears, wet and hot.

Eleven lowered her head and stared at Mike Hanlon’s dark blue water bottle. With the simple flick of her wrist, it went flying past a tent or two and into the bushes. Stan stared at Eleven for a second and then nodded solemnly.

His logic was losing.

“So, somehow this pre-historic clown that kill’s kids found Its way into the Upside-Down and is trying to seek revenge on you guys,” Joyce asked holding her head in her hands.

“Yeah, but this time since we teamed up with each other then It teamed up with the Demogorgon? Or more than one Demogorgon?” Lian seemed sure of what was happening, but she looked around for confirmation.

Everyone looked older now, not just Stan. They felt older too.

“Let’s take a break, I need to get a snack,” Dustin said getting up. “Plus, does anyone have a phone I can borrow? I need to call my Scoop Troop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this one was a little better. I'm taking two hours out of my day to write without my brothers nagging at me, so I think it has more detail and isn't too chaotic. When I write, my emotions tend to show in my writing, so if my surroundings are chaotic then my writing will reflect that.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	9. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update with a few questions!

Hey, a few things came up! 

First off, my stories have been sucking. I'm trying to find time to write in between my homework, school, and different personal problems, but hopefully I'm able to fit it into my schedule soon and make the chapters better, more detailed, and longer. My brother has been helping a bit more with them, so sometimes the ideas and lines that come up in the story are his writing.

Second, I know that Richie and Eddie are underage, but they also were near the end of the novel version of Stephen King's IT. So, that's that. 

Third, a few questions!

1) Are there any characters you want more of? There are so many that sometimes I forget. ):

2) Any relationships you want more of?

3) And any extra ideas, comments, or things you want to see? Anything at all. Let me know!


	10. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike finds a notebook and it leads him to believe that Richie really is trying to steal Eleven from him.

“What took you guys so long?” Lian asked looking up as Eddie and Richie entered the campsite. They looked at each other and Richie quickly came up with an excuse.

“Eddie was scared, and he wanted me to carry him. My legs got tired, so I walked slower, but…yeah… we got the shit” He tossed a big plastic Kwik Trip bag down at her feet and then smiled. Lian looked from one boy to the other, then noticed that Eddie’s pockets were filled with snacks and juice boxes. She smiled too and then ushered them away toward the fire.

“And then we kissed!” Mike said kissing Eleven’s cheek. Beverly clapped her hands with happiness at the end of the story. A real-life romance novel. 

“But first he whispered, ‘I’m coming in’ like some kind of mad man trying to break into an old ladies house.” El covered her mouth to stifle an abrupt burst of laughter. Mike nodded and then shot his cousin a look, that became Richie’s segue into a joke.

“Kissed who? Your pet pinecone named Penelope?” Richie sat on a log and then laughed. “Remember that from our childhood!? You had five pet pinecones and you named every one of them. What was it, Bert, Daniel—”

“SHUT UP, TOZIER!” Mike yelled turning to his cousin in pure rage. Richie giggled. “You promised you’d never mention that again as long as I never mentioned your pet rocks!”

“Well, I was six. You were ten, Michael my boy. That’s pretty old for a kid with inanimate objects for pets.”

Mike grabbed Eleven’s hand and stormed off. Which is honestly what Rich wanted.

“Richie, you gotta be nice to your cousin. He’s not gonna be around forever.” Mike said, but he was secretly trying to hide a smile. A wider smile spread across Richie’s face as he waited, and since everyone seemed to be great at holding back their gales of laughter, Richie whispered:

“He pretended they were hedgehogs.”

The butt of the joke hit home, and they laughed, tears streaming down their faces. It wasn’t that funny, but they needed any distraction—anything—from the situation that surrounded them like a dark cloud.

Along with their laughter came a small giggle within the tree line. It cracked, broke, and bubbled like Beverly’s old sink. It’s painted face spread into a wild smile and the splits in its skin began to split into the face that the Hawkins crew had described as a ‘Demogorgon’s’.

“You want to snicker at a pinecone family?” It whispered. “I’ll give you something to laugh about. Let’s dance. Yippie-ki-yay, mother fuckers.”

It giggled a little louder and only Stanley Uris heard. He turned and looked but saw nothing. Stan knew It had more fears to play off of this time, and It wanted revenge. He also realized that it was going to be easy to kill them. It would be easy to die. Now Stanley wouldn’t have to die of a sad suicide.

...................................................

For the past few days, it felt like the sun had never come up once. Of course, it had, but it just went away and called the bright moon back much too fast.

Also…the time and weather seemed off. It would rain for five minutes, stop for three, and then begin to snow. This was Indiana, keep in mind. It was also July. It shouldn’t snow in July. Even if you are as far up North in the United States as Wisconsin or Michigan. It. Does. Not. Snow. In. July.

When the cold powder came down Joyce vaguely thought about the movie Frozen that she watched with Will, where this woman had odd powers and she froze the entire village. Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas, Eleven, and Max all discussed that maybe the smallest boy of the Losers (Eddie) was secretly Elsa in disguise, or at least had ice powers…

Eddie tried to control the weather after he heard this idea, but he couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t have powers. Maybe all he had was psychosomatic asthma—

“Hey! Who wants to play hide and seek!?” Max called. “Besides Beverly!”

Eleven hit her arm lightly and then yelled: “Bev, you can come too.”

From inside her tent, Bev just grunted. Ben tried to coax her out, but she wasn’t having it. 

‘She’s just jealous.’ Beverly thought and laid her head back down to sleep more.

It was early morning and freezing, frost covered the ground, and everyone could see their breath in puffs of pale air. Richie, Eddie, and Stan were plagued by nightmares most of the time, huddling up with each other out of fear and the rapidly dropping temperatures, Bill seemed to be fine, Bev was playing with small sparks of fire all night, almost setting her sleeping bag on fire only once, Ben and Mike Hanlon talked until midnight, Mike Wheeler was overcome with insomnia, Joyce talked with Lian, and Hopper discussed the connection between the Upside Down and the Deadlights for most of the night.

The conversation took a small turn and it sounded a bit like this:

L: If the Upside Down is just like the real world… then does that mean there are people in it too?

(silence)

H: We’ve only been in that place for a few hours at the most, so I have no fucking clue. It could be possible.

L: Okay,

J: Didn’t you mention something about the clown creating different versions of everyone? In that haunted house or something?

L: Yeah, the Neibolt house. It would create a second version of us or turn into our worst fears. For Stanley it was a slightly sexual woman that was in a painting at the synagogue he goes to which was a play off of his fear of sexual activity, for Mike it was these crisp black hands being burned in a fire that he lost his parents in, for Richie it was the Teenage Werewolf, a regular clown, or it played off of the embarrassment and fear of his sexuality—

J: His sexuality? 

L: Yeah, he’s bisexual. (Joyce nods) Ben was scared of a headless ghost or a mummy, and Bev was scared of her abusive father and period blood. Al Marsh used to sexually abuse her whenever she was on her period, so she became scared of those days.

H: But what about your son? Bill?

L: (pauses) Well… he’s scared of… his dead brother in a way. It killed his brother… Georgie. Ripped off his arm and then most likely ate him. It was gruesome and Bill became afraid of losing anyone else. Both It and Bill demand revenge, I guess.

J: Hopper, do you think something like that in the Upside Down?

H: It makes sense. It might be difficult to find out safely—

L: Safely? Ha! You know what is safe? Leaving.

H: We can’t just do that, Lillian. It’s not that easy.

L: Damn right I know that, but do you think I really want to see my dead son again? Or watch Beverly cower away from her father, preparing to get raped? Or maybe watch someone die? No, but we have no other choice. Don’t ruin my wishes just because they won’t come true.

(silence)

H: Did it play off of your fears?

L: No.

H: Why not.

L: I don’t think It knows what I’m scared of. Or maybe It knows that I’m as scared as I can possibly be just watching my kids fear It.

J: What?

L: The worst fear is watching their fear. I can feel it. I can feel their emotions. I can feel that they’re all awake right now, listening… just listening to the woods. Trying to sleep. Will and Jonathan terrified knowing that this thing existed before the earth was created. Stanley has a huge black cloud surrounding him, that’s his OCD and depression. Eleven is a little too overconfident. And you guys are worried about your kids. That’s all we have in common; you know. We want to protect these kids.

J: That’s true.

(silence falls over them and the conversation ends)

......................................

“Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty!” Will yelled. The others were hiding in the woods, but not too far, just in case…

Mike Wheeler had ducked into a tent and after a few seconds of glancing around, he realized that it was his cousin’s. He saw a pastel rainbow fanny pack, a glasses case, two sleeping bags, a lantern, and a pale, blue, button-up shirt Mike recognized as Stan’s. They must have slept in the same tent last night because of the cold. There was also a black and red notebook peeking out from under Richie’s pillow. He pulled back the tent flap and searched for any sign of Will, since he saw nothing, he grabbed the notebook and pulled it open. 

The first thing he saw was a page that said R+E surrounded by a heart. R + E…

R + E.

Richie and… Eleven?

Mike gaped at the page in shock. That fucking pervert was thirteen and in love with a damn sixteen-year-old. He held the notebook in a tight fist and slid out of the tent.  
“RICHIE FUCKING TOZIER!” He screamed. Will, Eddie, and Eleven turned around to see Mike storming toward them. Rich came running with a big grin but as soon as the notebook came into view that smile fell right off his face and practically hit the ground with a comical crash.

“What are you doing with that! Give it!” Richie made a grab for it, but since Mike was taller, he held it out of reach.

“What does R+E mean, Trashmouth.” Mike spit in his face, holding that page of the notebook out for everyone to see.

“I—it doesn’t mean anything! I swear!” He sputtered, his face going red. 

“I think it does, I saw you flirting with my girlfriend the other day, so don’t even!”

“Wait, what?” Eddie jumped at that statement. “Flirting? Were you really?”

“What? When did I—?” Mike cut Richie off in anger. He was not about to let anyone take Eleven from him, especially not a little perverted thirteen-year-old boy.

“Shut up, Tozier. You know you were sweet-talking her the other day, just before Lillian and Bill walked in and caused a bunch of confusing drama. She was laying in a swimsuit and that’s why.”

“Richie, were you really flirting with Eleven?” Eddie asked and Mike shot him a foul look.

“Why do you care?” He snapped at Eddie. Richie was looking around at all of the pale and confused faces and then realized it was about time they told the truth, but Eddie said it first.

“Because he’s my boyfriend!” Eddie yelled and then covered his mouth in shock at his sudden outburst. Eleven smiled a little, Bill gaped, and Stan choked on his own spit, but they were all as equally shocked. Bev, however—who was approaching them at the time—felt ever so slightly surprised, she felt like she had always known that Reddie was a thing and that they were in serious love.

“He’s. Your. What?” Mike looked completely dumbfounded and caught off guard. It dawned on him that the E didn’t stand for Eleven… it stood for Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak. Shit, Mike may hate his cousin in so many ways, but he would never make his cousin come out of the closet before he was ready. Ever.

“My boyfriend.” Eddie dropped his voice so they wouldn’t attract any more attention. People still noticed anyway. Mike stared down at the notebook in his hands and looked back up at Richie and Eddie, who—to prove they were lovers—were holding hands.

“Oh m-my God, I’m so sorry, Rich.” Mike stammered. “Please fucking forgive me.”

“You always stick your nose in places where it doesn’t belong.” Richie gave Mike a disapproving shake of his head and then walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is Wyatt, SawyerXT's brother. This is my chapter, I claim it. I just wanted to let you know.


	11. Have You Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers and Hawkins gang are trying to come up with a plan and things about the Losers begin to spill out under pressure.
> 
> Hopper realizes that it's time to step back and let the kids take the lead.

“We could just wait for It to come for us,” Nancy suggested. Everyone was trying to decide how to find this thing. How to find It.

“N-No.” Everyone’s heads turned to Bill and since no explanation was given, Stan sighed and then asked why not.

“B-Because if it comes f-fuh-for us then we’re g-gonna be caught off guard. The only way t-tuh-to defeat It is to a) catch It off g-guard, b) lower Its ego, and c) s-st-t-top falling for Its m-mind games.” Bill stood up with an idea forming in the back of his head. He looked around and then back at the fire, Hopper stood up too, feeling like he was being out done by a kid, but he, unfortunately, forgot that this kid could read minds.

Bill narrowed his eyes at the Chief and then pointed at the log that Hopper had been sitting on.

“Sit down. I don’t like your intentions.” His stutter disappeared like someone had yanked it right out of his mouth by a string. “If you come up with the ideas right now then you’re not only going to get your girlfriend killed, but you’re going to get all of us killed.”

Hopper sat back down heavily. He wasn’t used to getting bossed around, let alone by a thirteen-year-old who was probably so irresponsible that some girl across the United States was holding his v-card like it was a shoe covered in dog shit.

“Wh-what? What did you j—”

“Shhh-ut up, old man.” Bill continued what he was saying before the small dispute. “Anyway, we can’t juh-just wait here for It. We need two different groups. One needs to go look for the g-g-gate that Eddie said he ssssaw and the rest of us need to find any trace of murder, slaughter, or something un-n-natural.”

“So, who is in what group?” Ben asked, “Because I want Beverly with me, and no Max so there aren’t any fights.”

“D-Deal, group one, Ben, Bev…who else?” Bill pulled out a red marker and a notebook, pulled the cap off with his teeth, and separated the page with a huge, thick, line. “Stan and I will be in the s-s-s—”

“Second group,” Stan muttered. Bill put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. Eddie noticed this small gesture and felt his gaydar go off. Bill liked his friend. He wanted more time and contact with his friend. He loved his friend. A small smile spread across Stanley’s face and he looked at Bill’s hand like it was a small bird that Stan had been looking for during a long afternoon of birdwatching.

“I want to go with Beverly,” Eleven said putting up a hand. Max gaped at Eleven for a second and then shot a glare at Bev, who honestly looked just as surprised as Maxine. 

“Wait, but… El? What about me?” Max asked as she grasped Eleven’s arm. El looked at Max and then shook her head. 

“You telling that mean story upset both me and Beverly. I’ll hang out with you later.” 

Bill continued with the group sorting and it ended up like this:

“Group 1 is going to look for the g-gate. That is Eleven, Beverly, Ben, Hopper, Will, Richie, Eddie, and Mike Wheeler.” This brought up a series of complaints from Mike W, Richie, and Max. Bill held up a hand and everyone fell silent.

‘What a douche.’ Lucas thought, ‘Max’s only best friend is being put with someone else. And it’s obvious that no one is happy with this asshole’s decision.’

Lucas looked up at Bill and saw that the stutterer’s eyes had fallen on him. With the quick realization that Bill had heard him, Lucas tried to cover it up.

“I didn’t mean that Bill. Okay? I just think it’s not fair that Max doesn’t get to go with her best friend just because of a small fight—”

“Do you want to make groups instead L-Lucas? M-M-Muh-Max is in group t-two with you, and El-Eleven specif-f-fically suggested to b-b-be with B-Beverly. If I put Beverly with M-Max, then they’ll fight, if they fight, then It will kill you g-guys right then and there.” Bill paused and Lucas hung his head in defeat. Bill had a point. The Hawkins crew knew nothing about this other-worldly entity. Bill did. For once, Lucas wasn’t the bigger man. These thirteen- and fourteen-year old’s were.

Hopper didn’t like it either. He was the police chief. Of course, he was upset.

“So, now everyone shhhh-ut up. Second group c-c-consists of me, S-S-St-St—”

“Stanley,” Stan whispered, and Bill put an arm around his frail slumped shoulders. Without even thinking about it he planted a soft kiss on his cheek, but Stanley barely noticed, his eyes were glazed over and blurry. He didn’t want any of this. He was getting more and more anxious as the seconds passed.

“Did you just kiss Stanley?” Richie asked, his mouth hanging open. Bill ignored him.

“Stanley, Dustin, M-Mike Hanlon, Lucas, Jonathan, Nancy, Joyce, and M-M-Max. N-Nine to eight. The reason I d-did that is so you can break yourselves into s-s-smaller groups within Group 1.”

“Deal, then let’s go.” Hopper got up planning on leading what he called ‘his’ group, but Bill ushered him back down. 

“You have no f-f-fucking clue what you’re g-getting into, Chief.” Bill sneered. Hopper didn’t sit down this time instead he was prepared for this boy’s boldness and arrogance. 

“I don’t like your attitude, kid. I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what you’re getting into. Have you ever closed a gate to a different dimension? Have you ever had to deal with creatures that are ten times stronger, faster, and smarter than you? Have—”

“Have you ever fought a being that was here before Earth? Before most humans? A being so powerful that it almost destroyed an entire tribe of a million people that used to live in Derry? Have you ever been caught in a Deadlight Trance? A trance that was brought on by a different dimension that is full of things that we can’t even dream of? Filled with things that have no explicable shape, no describable colour, no function we can imagine?” Beverly stood up and remained motionless next to Bill. 

She was raging and the other Losers were starting to feel exactly the same. As the sudden rage boiled in Ben “Haystack” Hanscom like Mrs. Kersh’s tea kettle that was left on too long, he crushed the metal bottle in his hand, lid popping off with a loud bang. Only a few people noticed his odd strength.

He was the one who stood up next.

“Have you ever been a twelve-year-old kid that just wants to hang out all summer and play? Build clubhouses that are actually sturdy and beautiful? Launch off bottle rockets? Go to the fucking library? Have you ever found out that suddenly you weren’t normal?” Ben was fuming. 

They all felt that they needed to prove their worth. They needed to show that they were more than annoying children who didn’t know how life works, if anything, they knew more than the average adult.

Richie stood up and Hopper sat down. He wasn’t prepared and he knew it. Somehow, deep down he just knew that for once, his experience with the Russians and shit was not going to help. This was far bigger. This was going to be the worst of all of the things he’s ever done.

This was worse than his daughter dying.

“I’m not just a cock-sucking kid. None of us are.” Richie began to pace a little, back and forth, back and forth across a small stretch of ground. Nerves were creeping in. “You know a lot, but we know more. Beverly was bullied and called a slut—heck, we were all bullied—plus her father raped her, Stan has been dealing with OCD and depression, Eddie is a hypochondriac with a mom who has Munchhausen by proxy, Bill lost his little brother Georgie to this shit of a monster, I almost lost my life and my lover, Ben was almost killed by our town’s asshole Henry Bowers, and Mike is hated on by everyone in Derry besides us because he’s black, plus he lost his parents in a fire at a bar called the Black Spot.”

“Y-Yeah, you h-huh-have it easy, being a c-cop, h-having an adopted daughter, and a g-girlf-friend.” Bill was now standing in the middle of a line of losers, all of them standing side-by-side, well…almost all of them. 

All but Stanley. Stanley was still standing at a distance.

Beverly’s hair was moving in the wind and it was flaming. Literally. It was ablaze with a bright blue fire, sparks of pink shooting out, and landing in the dead grass under their feet, but it was nothing like the time the Neibolt Beverly chased Ben through the school one-day years earlier. She was beautiful this time. Almost majestic.

Ben was still holding the crushed metal bottle in a tight fist. He was overcome with an odd sense of strength and knew that power this was going to stick around. He wanted to see what else he could crush with his bare hands, but he guessed he’d have to wait for a while. He’d have to wait for It.

Richie’s irises were a milky white in both eyes as he saw flashes of colours, and barely distinguishable scenes pass before him. There were things like red pools of blood, then bodies floating in mid-air like they did in the deadlights, then there were joyful things like Stan and Bill kissing… soft and sweet. Just a touch of the lips. These small visions didn’t last for more than a second or two and they were very dull, but they still stuck around in the back of his mind.

Nothing but Eddie’s tippy toes were touching the ground as he hovered in mid-air, he felt like something was pushing him away from the ground. Like two magnets of the same type repelling each other. Hating each other. It was like Eddie’s body was hating the ground.

Bill’s nose bled at a slow trickle as he accessed everyone’s thoughts at once.

Mike appeared to glitch like a broken video game. Joyce was standing in front of the Losers and he looked directly into Mike’s eyes. A shockwave was sent through her body and she began to see things. Mike was sharing memories with her. He was showing her how important this really was. 

Joyce saw an image of Beverly hiding naked in the shower with the lights off and water running as her father yelled through the door ‘Open up, Beverly! You don’t want to make daddy any madder than he already is! Come be a good girl and get into bed with daddy!’ 

Then she saw Stanley and his parents entering their house after a Sunday at the synagogue. As soon as the door shut, Stan’s father turned and his him across the face with blinding speed. ‘You are an embarrassment to this family! The rabbi’s own son can’t finish a single Torah reading!’ His father grabbed Stanley’s hair and shoved him down the hall. ‘Go to your room and pray that the community doesn’t shame you.’

These terrible memories flashed before Joyce’s eyes. A bully carving his name into Ben’s gut, Bill’s brother Georgie waving goodbye for the final time, Richie getting kicked out of the arcade for flirting with another boy, Eddie’s mother force-feeding him medications he didn’t need, Mike’s parents reaching out from a doorway as they burned like a roast, and the Losers… swimming around in a quarry, presumably in Derry.

Joyce snapped back to reality and looked around to see everyone else looking either shocked or sad. Nancy was wiping the tears from her eyes. These kids were broken.

“Have you ever been seconds away from bleeding out because you slit your wrists when suddenly a woman you know saves the fucking life that you didn’t want?” A whisper floated from behind the Losers and they turned and saw Stanley, just staring at Hopper with wide eyes and a sad look. 

Stan took a step forward and then looked down at his feet. The tree’s rustled and some of them seemed to bend forward like Play-Doh. That was Stan’s doing and they knew it.

“Have you…have you ever questioned why you didn’t care what a person’s gender is when it seems like everyone else does? Questioned why you didn’t want sex as much as other kids your age? Why you weren’t as excited to fuck when you got older? Why you weren’t happy?” Streaks of blood ran down Stan’s cheeks and he tried to wipe them away, but all they did was smear into a mess of red. “Turns out there’s a name for that. A depressed yet grateful, panromantic asexual.”

An eerie silence fell over everyone.

“Then let’s do it.” Nancy whispered. “Let’s help them make a plan. Bill, you take charge.”

.............................

Lian was planning on staying behind with a walkie talkie. She was going to be the ‘control center’ as Will had put it. 

“When they launch astronauts into space, there are people on the ground who listen to the radio. Just in case anything goes wrong up in orbit, you know?” Will chimed in when Bill was stuck on a word. “They call it the control center. Is that what you mean, Bill?”

“Yeah, th-th-thanks.” Bill shot him a grateful smile and Will smiled back, his cheeks turning red. Bill was cute. Really cute.

Eddie was too. Will wasn’t a fan of Richie, mostly because he was too loud, but Stan, Eddie, and Bill, they were something…for sure.

The plan was simple. Group one was going to search the woods for any traces of the Upside Down, or Pennywise, and group two was going to follow Eddie to where he thinks he found the gate.

It sounded so damn simple…but it wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! See if you can count how many book and movie references there are in this chapter because there are a hella lot. I didn't even mean too. 
> 
> And let me know if there is a scene that may be your favorite and you want me to bring up or expand on.
> 
> Plus, I want you guys to comment what you think the Loser's newfound powers are. some are obvious, and some aren't... so good luck!


	12. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an update

Hey! This is just a "small" update.

I wanted to thank Fandom_Fangirl_27 and The_Agender_Ghost for all your support! I'm trying as hard as I can to work on my first full fanfiction, and I'm never sure if I'm doing good or not. 

Also, I tend to use italics when I write, but I have no FREAKING clue how to use them on here... yeah... so that always causes the story to lose emphasis and it gets a little confusing. Especially when trying to portray someone's thoughts, so if anyone has any idea how to, then please, for God's sake, let me know.

Next off, I made a poem that I feel Richie would give to Eddie, and here it is, just for the heck of it:

"Roses are red,  
Violets are blue,  
Adoration is affectionate,  
And so are you.

Orchids are white,  
Ghost ones are rare,  
A voice is soft,  
And so is your hair.

Magnolia blooms,  
With buds sprouting from sticks,  
Satin is smooth,  
And so are your lips.

Sunflowers reach,  
Up to the skies,  
Your sun is captivating,  
And so are your eyes.

Foxgloves in hedges,  
Surround the farms,  
Your climate is warm,  
And so are your arms.

Daisies are pretty,  
Daffies have style,  
Your love is beautiful,  
And so is your smile.

An ocean is built on love,  
Just like you.  
I’m sending you a dove  
As proof that losers never lose.

Now listen closely before you get tired  
Know that it’s true.  
Your heart is medicinal fire  
And mine burns there too."

Well, there it is. Hope it was okay.

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Just for clarification, Mike Hanlon's power is Telepathy, he can project his thoughts and images to other people if he so chooses, Bill also has Telepathy, except he has a different form of it. Bill can read minds and Mike can't, Mike can transfer information but Bill can't. If you see what I mean. It's often painful if used for too long.🤕

Eddie can levitate, in almost a creepy way, I guess. Mostly because I can see him --this small boy-- floating in mid-air surrounded by a bunch of red balloons🎈, his eyes bleeding

Richie has Precognition. He can see the future.🔮

Stanley has Telekenisis just like Eleven. Mostly because I can see him being an angsty telekinetic boy who gets even more angsty when he uses his powers because they shouldn't be possible, then his powers rage even more because he's upset. It just goes in a full circle. Poor Stanley.😥

Beverly has Pyrokenisis🔥, she can create fire with her bare hands and mind. I got that from the form that Pennywise took when he pretended to be Beverly, and 'Your hair is winter fire' of course. Except she's a lot prettier when her hair glows and her skin doesn't melt off. 😅

And last off, Ben has superhuman strength💪. I just felt that his size should be misleading. If he's chunky then no one will take him seriously, but if he shows them up with his odd strength, them, BoOm. Never underestimate the fat boy, bitches.

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

If you guys want me to bring up a certain scene from the first IT movie or the book, then let me know, whether it's your favorite scene or just one you want me to work with. It could also be an object, like Georgie's boat, Eddie's aspirator, the hammock, the clubhouse, Bev's bloody bathroom, just to name a few. Pick what you want!

And, final thing, I hope you understand the Loser's family life. Stan's family is the type that I would call 'a religious family behind closed doors'. Abusive at home when no one is around and full of proper etiquette when out in public, just to keep up their "rep". 

Beverly's dad is obviously abusive, physically, and sexually. She lives with Lillian because her mom told her too.

Eddie's mother has Munchausen's by proxy. If you don't know what that is, it's a form of abuse. Eddie's mother Sonia makes her son purposely sick to get attention and sympathy. It can be very serious. Some mothers physically harm their children by breaking their bones and then acting sorry about it or maybe pushing them down the stairs to injure them. Sometimes this form of abuse can lead to death in the child.

Bill's family put him up for adoption and he ended up with Lillian, who is Dustin's sister.

Mike's parents are dead. That's still canon.

Richie's dad is an alcoholic who loves his son, but his mother wants Rich as far away from that as possible.

Ben's mother tragically died of a car accident. He also lives with Lian.

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

That's all for this "short" update.

Oh, and I just watched the Shining, and I'll tell you... I'm confused. But that doesn't matter. I don't even know why I even brought it up.


	13. Seperated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie has his first vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is short and rushed. I felt I was taking too long to put out a new chapter and I wanted to finish this before my wi-fi started to act up. Like it always does.🙄

GROUP 1

“How far do we have to walk?” Eddie called from the back of the group. 

“You, Mister, aren’t even walking.” Eleven turned around and smiled.

This was true. He’d been alternating between floating in mid-air, nothing but his tippy toes dragging along the ground, and having Richie carry him like a child. At the moment, Rich was holding him like one might hold a five-year-old, so they don’t get their socks wet while walking along a freshly mopped ground.

“I know, but still. This is mentally exhausting.” He took a blast off of his aspirator and then nuzzled into Richie’s neck to try and sleep.

“Hey, guys,” A familiar voice said. Eddie looked to see who it was and saw Will. He looked tired and worn-out too. It was hovering around ninety-eight degrees that day, they’d been walking for around six miles already, finding nothing but an old, cracked Backstreet Boys album on vinyl, a toy dump truck that was missing all of its wheels except for one, and a tree that had been struck by lightning.

“Hey, Will, what’s poppin’?” Richie panted. “Eddie, Ima put you down, okay? I’m fucking ready to collapse.”

Eddie’s feet hit the ground and he decided it would be best to get his exercise in (Otherwise he might get too fat and end up with diabetes).

“Not much. As you can clearly see.” Will laughed and wiped the sweat off his brow.

“Well, I see the sky, clouds, treetops with babies rocking in them, and my cousin’s hair. Those things are up.” Richie pointed as he spoke.

“Did you just make a lullaby joke?” Eddie gave Richie a disgusted look and Richie smiled a shark-like grin. The grin he always gave when he had joke after joke lined up in his head.

“It was better than the joke I was gonna say…”

Eddie played along.

“And what may that be, doofus?”

“I was gonna tell you that my dick was up as soon as this cutie” –Richie poked Will’s cheek—“approached us.”

Will blushed a deep crimson and then looked away, deciding to change the topic.

“What do you mean ‘Mike’s hair’?” Will asked.

“I’m so glad you asked, William. My cousin’s hair likes to get poufy-er than that wad of cotton balls I once jacked off into. Especially when it’s hot out.” Richie smirked and Eddie punched him in the arm.

“That is so not funny.” Eddie sighed as he felt his feet lift off the ground again. He was having a hard time controlling when he began to levitate. He was also worried about floating away like 

(a balloon)

that one girl from Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. The more Eddie thought despite the raging heat, the more he realized that Lillian’s house was like the ward for the children in that book/movie. They were all peculiar, There were a lot of them, and they were always being chased by the bad guys.

“I have a question for you guys…” Will said quietly and Richie felt his gaydar go off. 

“What is it?” Rich asked and as Will began to speak the sights in front of Richie became oddly blurry despite his glasses. A dizzying feeling washed over him and he gripped onto Eddie’s shoulder tightly to keep from falling.

“Rich are you okay?” Eddie asked concerned, but Richie didn’t answer. He was too busy focusing on what he was seeing. To Richie his vision looked like a camera that is blurring the background of a picture and focusing on the foreground, the problem wasn’t just that, it was also that the forground that he was seeing wasn’t real. It was some kind of… 

Richie didn’t know.

He saw fighting. Between… Bill and Max… the reason why eluded Richie and he wondered why, but then he saw someone a bit further away silently stepping off the path and into the woods. It was Stanley. That wasn’t a big deal either until Richie saw Stanley was holding something clear, but it glinted in the setting sun. It was a piece of glass, about twelve inches long too.

The next thing he saw was long, red, vertical gashes, two on each arm. They were definitely Stanley’s arms. He could tell because those wrists were already covered in white raised scars and some dull, older ones, but there was also a gash that Pennywise had made while trying to kill the Losers that one summer.

‘I have no choice but to take myself off the board.’ 

Richie had never heard anyone say that before, but somehow he knew that it was Stanley’s voice. It sounded older–much older, like forty—but he just knew.

“Guys! Stop!” Eddie yelled and everyone turned around half expecting to see a giant clown looming over them. 

Richie was gripping onto a tree and trying to hold back the hot, sour, vomit rising in the back of his throat, but unfortunately, that didn’t work. It splattered across the base of the tree and his shoes. Eddie jumped back, disgusted. In a last-ditch attempt to comfort his heaving boyfriend, Eddie stretched out his arm and awkwardly patted Richie’s back, extremely careful not to catch any germs that may be flying in the air.

Richie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and Beverly grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around to face her, and then let go so she didn’t burn him. The heat and humidity were making her skin hotter with every step she took.

“Rich! Are you o—” Bev got one look at his eyes and took a step back in shock. 

His eyes were a pure milky white. 

They began to change back to their dark brown after a second, but it still freaked the rest of the group out.

“Rich, what is it?” Mike Hanlon asked shaking Richie’s shoulder.

“Dude, stop shaking me, I’m fine.” Richie groaned but the groan cut off sharply when he remembered what he had just seen before his very own eyes, or… rather IN his eyes I guess… his mind's eye maybe.

“Stanley! We need to get Stanley!” Richie felt the screams of panic bubble up inside of him just like his vomit. He began to walk the way that that they had come from, but Mike Hanlon grabbed a hold of him once again.

“Wait, why?” He asked. 

“He’s gonna kill himself! Okay?! No joke, I saw it! He’s gonna ‘take himself off the board, or whatever I heard.” Rich tried to keep walking, but Mike held his shirt sleeve tighter.

“No! Richie! Tell us what happened! What did you see? We’re not going anywhere until you tell us what the hell is going on.” 

“I had… some kind of vision, I guess. I don’t know what else you would call it… but I saw Stanley walking away from his group and into the woods with a big piece of glass. He was gonna cut his wrists.”

Beverly nodded solemnly. She knew something like this was bound to happen soon.

"Well, let's try to contact Lillian on the walkie talkie and tell her to ask group two if Stanley is with them. And if he is, then she should tell them to keep an eye out for him." Hopper said but Will was shaking his head.

"We can't, we're out of range."

Silence fell heavy as they began to panic.


	14. Separated Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Group one knows things that group two doesn't.

A crackle came in through the walkie talkie. Lillian jumped and accidentally dropped the book she was reading on her face. It hit her in the nose, and she cursed under her breath, grabbing for the walkie talkie blindly as she rubbed her face.

“L—Do you copy?—Lil—there is—can—we need you to—he’s gonna—” A crackling voice came through the speaker.

“Hold on, I can’t hear you, you’re too far out of range!” Lillian could tell that the voice was urgent and that they needed something, but the voice was crackling too much to be understood.

“…Shit!—Richie ha—vision—it’s Sta—he’s gonna—” The voice could be vaguely recognized as Will Byers.

“Okay, speak slowly. We’ll—”

“What?” Will shouted. 

“You need to get closer!” She raised her voice a little, but nothing came through. All signal was lost for the group.

From the woods, Will was cursing. He threw the walkie-talkie down onto his bag and looked around.

“We have to keep walking.” He shrugged. He looked pissed, crossing his arms defensively and frowning.

“Hey, is that rope?” Ben asked. He pointed at the brown end sticking out of Will’s huge, dark blue, backpack.

“What the fuck is rope gonna—” Richie paused. Slowly and in a synchronized fashion, everyone looked up at Eddie. He was confused and didn’t understand at first, but then he got it.

“No, no, no, no, no, no—“

..................................

“Are you ready, Eddie?” Richie asked. They had tied the rope around his waist with a slip knot and were planning on sending him up into the air. If he could spot the other group nearby, that would be great, if they couldn’t…well…then they were screwed. Stan would die.

“No, I don’t really feel like being launched up into the air like a hot hair balloon, right now, so…” Eddie looked up toward the sky and then back down toward the ground, wishing he could kiss it goodbye.

“Well, we have no other choice, so…” Bev mocked his tone and finished tightening the knot. “There, secure. Now you won’t float away.”

“Isn’t the whole point of killing it so we DON’T have to float?” Eddie mused looking around at his fellow Losers for support, but no one nodded or gave any acknowledgment to his comment, so he spoke louder. “Isn’t there any other way to do this!?”

“No,” Mike “Homeboy” Hanlon said, and he gave Eddie a small push to get him to move underneath a small opening in the tree canopy above them. Eddie looked up at the lush green leave above them and swallowed. This was NOT going to be fun. The trees were so tall, and the branches looked so sharp…what if he cut himself on one and got tetanus? You know, where your jaw locks up and you have lots of seizures, and sometimes you convulse so hard you break your back? Yeah, that one. 

Eddie felt his heels lift off of the moss underfoot and he felt his start throat close up. Not even a blast on his aspirator helped. 

He went up five feet, then ten, then fifteen, then twenty, then thirty, and at around the forty feet mark he yelled down, “What if I told you I don’t know how to stop!?”, but he got no audible response, just some pale faces looking solemnly at the boy above them. He reached the tops of the trees and felt some branches scrape at his arms and face. He couldn’t do anything about it since the squeeze was so tight, but from what he examined, there were no cuts or scrapes.

He floated higher and higher when he felt the rope pull tight. He was at the end.

Most of the way up he was squeezing his eyes closed and thinking about a video he saw about that tetanus thing. It was about three people contracting the disease and then breaking their back because of the seizures and then one girl died and how Eddie cried because it was so gruesome that he just couldn’t handle it.

Now, however, he was more worried about his levitating abilities suddenly malfunctioning and then him dropping fifteen stories to the ground and breaking his back THAT way. Whichever happened it still ended with a broken back. Not good.

The trees looked so pretty. They were jade green and very vibrant. He could smell the forest even from this far above, it smelled like dirt, like…rain. Wait…

“Fuck, incoming rain. Come on Beverly, fly me like a damn kite. I can’t see shit from here.” He whispered to himself. As if on cue, he felt a tug on the rope, and he began to drift in the slight breeze. He thought about how Stan liked birds.

How Stan would ride his bike through town with the rest of the Losers, but he’d stop. When he did that, you knew that he saw a bird. It was possibly in flight, maybe it was resting on a clothesline, maybe it was in someone’s garden, but you knew he saw one. Or a few. He also had the ability to whistle. He could manipulate that whistle and make it sound like a robin, or a blue jay, or even a canary. He wanted to have a pet canary now that Eddie thought about it, but…

But if this plan didn’t follow through…then Stan would never have one.

The thought practically tore through his chest and a small whine escaped his throat. 

No. No way. Eddie was not about to let that happen.

He kept drifting as Bev walked on the floor below him. The rain's smells became more powerful as the wind blew against him. It felt good. It felt like he was gliding through a cloud, raindrops cooling his hot skin. Maybe he was.

He felt a tug down and assumed that Bev was getting him closer to the ground, which was true, but it still felt scary. It built his anxiety even more.  
He had no choice, but…how would he get to them when he saw them?

.....................................

MEANWHILE IN GROUP 2 

Richie’s prediction was right. Bill and Max were beginning to fight. Unlike where group one was, it was cold. Freezing cold. Nancy said that it might be because the gate was nearby and most of the Stranger Kids agreed, so the Losers Club went with it. It made sense.

“I still can’t believe it. El went with that flaming Cheeto. The fiery bitch. The blazing whore. She has no business—” Max was ranting continuously, and Bill had finally had enough. Max was only saying things, but she was also thinking even angrier thoughts. Bill was sick of hearing it.

“Shhhhhut up!” He snapped. Max gave him a look that said, ‘what are you gonna do about it?’. Bill threw down his backpack and was ready to throw hands too. Stan let go of Bill’s hand and stepped back a little.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jonathan stepped in and tried to pull Bill away from Max to prevent an attack. “Remember what we talked about? We fight, it kills us. It’s that simple…”

To Stanley’s ears, everything sounded dull and muffled. He had passed by fifteen dead birds on his way to this small clearing, all dead of the cold, he counted fifty-four frost-covered bushes, ten panicked squirrels, another ten dead ones, and weirdly enough…thirteen unrealistic trees.

Maybe it was just a trick of the eyes or something, but Stanley Uris felt unrealistic too. He’d been trying to disassociate as well as he could for the past four miles—group two was going much slower than group one—but with every simple squeeze of the hand that Bill gave him brought him back to reality. He didn’t want that, but Stan couldn’t let go.

This was as close as he could get to Bill right now without actually saying the words ‘good-bye’. He thought it he stepped just a little bit to the right, then the words he’d been wanting to say would come flooding out.

‘I love you, Bill, but I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. This is dumb. If It wants to kill us, then I’m not going to give it the satisfaction of doing so. I’d rather go down knowing that it’s my fault I died, not It’s, or yours, or anyone else’s. I love you, but I’m good. I just want to kiss you, say bye, and sleep. Forever.’  
He couldn’t because Bill would freak out obviously, but he wanted to oh so badly.

As soon as Max and Bill began to fight, Stan backed towards the tree line unnoticed. He pulled a twelve-inch shard of glass from a broken mirror out of the waistband of his jeans, stared one last time at Bill, and then made his final decision. 

He was gonna do it. His life was over. He didn’t care.

Stanley sunk into the trees and disappeared. 

He sat on a downed tree much like the one Richie and Eddie screwed on and he held the shard of glass. 

Yeah, it was about twelve inches, a slight blue colour in the shadows, but it was just as shiny. 

Stan ran his finger along the jagged edge and felt a hot tear roll down his pale face, past his cold, blue, lips, and down his neck. He didn’t mind. He could barely feel anything but the sharp ticket out in his hand.

His disassociation was a success.

.......................................

Love is a funny thing.

Some people are shamed for who they love.

Some people are shamed for loving themselves.

Some people…some people…they are killed for the causes they love.

Take a look at the Black Lives Matter protests. People are shot because they think that they have a pretty skin colour. Why, though? No one ever knows, and Stan wants answers, but he was never gonna get them. Maybe deep down he really DIDN’T want to know.

Maybe some things are better-kept secret. Like his sexuality. Like his love for Bill. Like his loss of sexual attraction. Like his sadness. Like his obsessions with cleanliness and organizations. Maybe…just maybe…those intrusive thoughts are best kept intrusive.

What’s the point of thinking about life in such a literal way if you’re just gonna throw it away anyway? Maybe because you don’t actually want to die? No…that can’t be. Then why would Stan be here? Why would he be sitting on a fallen tree just like the one Richie and Eddie had sex on a few nights before? Stan had no clue that had happened, but even if he did…would it matter?

No.

Dear reader. You can't be scared of or excited about things you don't know. Life is bad. I hope you know that. But guess what? If you decide that it is best to kill yourself, just know, that before you die all you will see is your life flash before your eyes. 

Things like the ‘B-B-Buh-Barrens’, diving into the quarry, getting comforted by your friends after being attacked, falling in love, bombing your own bar mitzvah, and making a promise.

I can’t access your thoughts like Bill Denbrough, but I can assure you that you will be okay, and you have a lot of good memories mixed with the sour ones.

I may not be able to predict the future like Richie Tozier, but I can assure you that there’s something worth living for right up ahead. Right past the mix of toxic sludge dragging you with it. Everything tastes bad, smells bad, and feels bad, but I have a promise to make too.

Cut your hand and grab mine.

I promise that this is the Never-ending Story. The written parts may end—not yet—but the story itself will last an eternity. Long after the eternal entity, we call ‘It’ is killed, long after Stan dies, long after Eddie is killed, long after all of this. 

I promise.

I’m just telling you this now, you know…before it’s too late.

This story…and your's…is NOT over.

If you run away, then you will see how big the world is. I've done it before. I was cold (death is cold). I was lonely (death is lonely). I was sad (death is sad). I saw a public bookshelf. Take one and leave one thing, you know? I thought that would be the last book I ever read. It was IT. I thought I was gonna die. 

But I read that whole book in one night, by the light of a street lamp, the next thing I knew it was morning. I had tears frozen to my face. All I could think about was the ghosts. The ghosts I would miss if I died right there and right then. But, I didn't. I went to the house I hated and was hated in.

Now I'm writing this.

Do you know where I am? 

Not dead. That's where.

And I'm glad.

Is this section of the story pointless? Not entirely.

It's hard to write sentimental stuff. Mostly because life is hard.

You're okay. I promise, reader. Stand up for the black lives, stand up for the queer lives, stand up from the street corner, because I love you. 

If you believe that Eddie can help Stan, then I can help you.

........................................

Eddie had spotted Stan from pretty low to the ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, he untied the slip knot around his waist and let go of the rope entirely.

Just like Mary Poppin’s, he began to drift down toward the ground. At the five-foot mark, he felt any bit of lightness and levitation leave him, his feet hit the ground with a thud. No injuries, safe flight. All was good except for the embarrassment of floating like Harry Potter's Aunt in one of the books. 

Now Eddie just needed to get to Stanley. That was the only goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was okay! 
> 
> I know one of the paragraphs seemed out of place and I'm sorry. My brother told me to write something sentimental, so I tried.


	15. Yet Another Update

Totally not me over here deciding whether or not to keep writing this fic. 0-0

But I think I'm gonna keep writing it, not gonna lie. Without the constant reminders that if you wanted to give me ideas you should and stuff because holy shit I was just annoying when I was doing that. I kinda wish I could go back in time, look over slightly younger me's shoulder while I was writing this stuff, and go 'Stop. Get some help.'

But yay! For all those non-existent people who want more, then here you go. I'll make some more.

Buckle up, mate. This is about to be so bad. I think.

You know, I shouldn't jinx it.

But I probably just did.

Anyway, thanks. (:


	16. I Swear, Bill

Stan heard a crack of a stick and he jumped to his feet, almost dropping the shard of glass on the spongy, wet ground. A shadowy figure emerged from the trees.

“Stanley?” Eddie asked. He stepped over a fallen tree branch and then stopped in his tracks. Stan noticed his odd jerky movements and grew slightly afraid.

“Stan,” Eddie took a deep breath. “I love you.”

Stan stared and blinked. 

“How did you get here? Where are the others?” He asked frantically. The voices of the people from his group were echoing through the forest and Stanley knew that what was supposed to be his suicide attempt, had failed. He wasn’t going to be able to take the easy way out anymore.

“I…this is gonna sound weird, but I floated here.” This is what caused alarm, this is what caused Stan to believe this was another one of It’s tricks. A red flag was waved in the back of Stan’s mind.

Stan stepped back.

“Stanley, put the glass down. I love you; Bill loves you; Richie loves you…” Eddie’s voice dropped and began to crack. “Bev loves you; Ben loves you; Mike loves you…”  
This wasn’t Eddie. The smile. The smile said it all. The pout of the bottom lip, the big teeth, the wide eyes.

“Stanley? Stan!?” He heard the rest of the group yell.

“OVER HERE!” He yelled. The Other Eddie’s smile faded away, turned into a drooling pout, and his face began to pulsate.

“Stan!?” Joyce yelled. They were getting closer.

“JOYCE! BILL! NANCY!” Stan screamed louder.

“No, no, no, no.” The Other Eddie muttered. His voice was high-pitched but slightly crackly, like a fruit bat on steroids or something. The face throbbed even harder until it began to split like a chapped lip in the middle of winter. Stan’s breathing sped up and it clouded around his tired and pale face in a mist of water vapor. The air was growing colder, and colder, darker, and darker with each thrum from the creature’s face.

It beat faster and faster, tearing more and more, Stan’s heartbeat with it. Very suddenly the whole forest went quiet for a minute. No birds, no wind, no pulsating, nothing.

The Other Eddie stood still a few feet away from Stanley. It licked it cracked lips with a wet slap and then went still again. Stan’s ears popped from the quiet and they hurt, but he didn’t want to move to soothe them, just in case the thing didn’t like the movement.

With a sharp roar and a lunge, it opened its large jaws and went straight for Stan’s face. He screamed and put his arms up in an X to cover his face, but nothing came. Very slowly he lowered his arms and saw the tall, dismembered version of Eddie floating in mid-air. 

Eleven.

She stood behind the tall, pale, thing along with Dustin, Lucas, Bill, Joyce, Nancy, and… the real Eddie, her hand up in the air as she lifted the thing with her mind. With a slight snap of the wrist, the thing hit a large tree nearby. Bill ran toward Stanley who slid backward away from him, his back making grooves in the wet dirt, which was starting to freeze. Bill stopped.

“S-S-Stanley?” Bill asked softly. Eddie came up behind Bill and whispered something in his ear. Bill went even more pale and then approached Stan completely, who flinched.

“Stan… hey…” Bill purred and ran his hand down the side of the shivering boy’s face. Stan dropped the glass shard he was holding into the dirt. His hand was bleeding from clutching it so hard. Bill brushed the curls out of Stan’s face and then kissed his cheek. He could hear the raging thoughts in boy’s head and knew this was bigger than they wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, Bill.” Stan sobbed. “I just…didn’t want to do this. It… I just don’t…”

“I know, I can hear you.” Bill tilted his chin up. Upon seeing Stan’s blue lips Bill decided to warm them up with a sweet soft kiss. He leaned in toward a wide-eyed Stanley, slipped some tongue, and licked his bottom lip. His saliva was warm, and Stan shuddered with delight.

“Billy, I’m cold.”

“Me too, but we need to talk.” Bill flinched at those words, not wanting to scare Stanley even more. Stan nodded understandingly. He knew that this wasn’t just gonna go away.  
…  
Stan and Eddie were fast asleep and under the watch of Ben Hanscom, but the others were busy. They were trying to decide what the hell the thing they saw was.  
“I’ve got it!” Dustin jumped up and scared half of the group with the sudden loud noise. “Sorry, but I know what we can call them! Demidevils. It makes total sense! We can keep up the Demo- prefix trend, except instead of an ‘o’, it has an ‘i’.”

“Dustin, I’m sorry, but no one cares. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do. We can’t split up. It doesn’t work.”

“Agreed. Plus, while we were searching for you guys, we found something…” Hopper said and pulled out a small object wrapped in a towel.

He begins to unwrap it and Bill see the top.

“A b-b-b-boat?!” Bill jumped up and took the thing out of the rest of the towel. “Is it Juh-Juh-Juh—”

“Georgie’s.” Lian finished for him.

Bill took the boat carefully from Hopper’s hands and looked it over. It wasn’t broken, ripped, or damaged in any way which shocked Bill. After so long it came back. Even if Pennywise brought it back, it was still here and it was in his hands. S.S. Georgie was still written in black sharpie under the wax they put on the outside.

So it floated.

The wax, the cellar, the raincoat. It all came flooding back to Bill like a bad dream that was never forgotten after a whole year. When dreams like that come and they don’t go, then you get a little concerned. You start to over-think. You think that that dream may have meant something that you aren’t realizing. Except these memories did mean something. This boat meant something.

This boat was his last piece of Georgie.

Bill took the boat from Hopper and walked away, holding it like it was the most fragile thing he’s ever touched.

With a gentle shake, the stuttering mind-reader woke Stan up and walked him to his tent.

“Stan, I know you’re tired, but we need to talk.”

(This story is such trash lmao)


End file.
